The Girl Who Fell For Hell
by sherlockedbyben
Summary: "You're merely a death that hasn't happened yet." "You're right. I could die. Or worse still, get a lecture from the Doctor when we get back." After a run in with the Winchesters, the Tardis gets cursed. The Doctor has the King of Hell held hostage, determined to find a cure. Will Clara Oswald be able to get Crowley to talk?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey so I made two failed attempts at Clara/Crowley stories, but was recently inspired to give it another go, so here it is, third time lucky!**

 **I hope I get you to ship this insanely random pairing :D**

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"Clara? Clara, I need your help. Now would be a fine time."

Clara frowned at the sudden outburst from the Doctor, the door to her flat still swinging on its hinges from where he had boisterously flung it open moments previously.

"Is something wrong?" She arched an eyebrow delicately and surveyed his dishevelled appearance, his short grey hair even more scruffy than usual and his clothes slightly ruffled. "You don't look great."

"Save the compliments for later, we've got to go," The enigmatic Time Lord grabbed her hand and she let out a small squeak of surprise as he pulled her to her feet. She soon found herself running out the door, struggling to keep up with the Doctor's quick pace. _Damn him and his long legs._

"Doctor, what's going on?" She panted, willing him to slow down for just a second so she could catch her breath. A sudden thought occurred to her as she realised the unusualness of the situation. "Where's the Tardis?"

"The Tardis is actually the problem," The Doctor sighed sullenly, dragging Clara around a sharp corner where the familiar blue box suddenly came into her line of sight. Clara removed herself from the alien's grip and approached the box briskly with a dubious frown. She stopped just short of the doors and spun to face her friend.

"She looks fine to me," She shrugged nonchalantly, failing to see the predicament. "Might need a bit of a paint job, but apart from that…"

"Everyone's a critic," The Doctor grumbled, pushing past her and making his way into the Tardis. He snapped his fingers repeatedly as he fought for the correct words, vexed. "The problem isn't strictly _visible_ per say."

"You're saying the Tardis is… Sick?" Clara chanced cautiously, stepping inside the blue police box. This was new.

"To some extent, yes, that's exactly what I'm saying," The Doctor replied curtly, pressing his lips together in a thin line as he brushed a finger across the console tentatively. "Not the precise words I would've chosen though."

"Then what's wrong with her?" Clara looked around the control room, straining to find any sign of ailment, but coming up blank.

"I think the Tardis has been cursed," The Doctor stated gravely, and Clara snapped her eyes up to meet his in shock at his words. She took a careful step forward, her mouth forming a small expression of confusion.

"Cursed?" She spluttered, a half smile of disbelief flitting across her features, her eyebrows drawing together at the statement. "What do you mean _cursed_? I saw you _three_ days ago! Did you disturb a coven of witches while you were gone or something?!"

"Listen, Clara, it's more complicated than that," The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to relieve his stress. "I was in America- What?"

"Sorry," Clara wiped the smirk from her face quickly and stifled her scoff. "Just… Anywhere in space and time and you chose _America_?"

"It's a free country," The Doctor pursed his lips with a brooding glare. "Anyway, as I was saying, I was in America, when I came across this pair of hunters."

He flexed his long, thin fingers as a low groan emitted from somewhere deep inside the Tardis' core, distracting him for a moment.

"Winchesters, they called themselves. They said they dealt with the supernatural. I decided to help them out on a 'hunt'. I was curious. You know how it is, you're always curious. You never stop asking questions and poking your nose around where you shouldn't."

"Uh, Doctor, that's you," Clara corrected briskly, too used to his vexing comments by now to feel irked by them. "What… What kind of things do they hunt?" She questioned nervously, unsure where this conversation was headed.

"Vampires, wendigos, ghosts, demons, witches… Yes, surprising, I know, but I'm not one to judge," The Doctor shot an anxious glance at the console, as if afraid it would explode at any second. "They were dealing with a witch, an extremely powerful one. I know I shouldn't have got involved but-"

"No, Doctor, you shouldn't have!" Clara burst out tersely, a feeling of dread washing over her. This was bad. "You should have left it to the Winchesters, or whatever they're called. Now your Tardis is cursed, and we're standing inside it! What if I'm cursed now too? What if it's contagious?"

"I highly doubt a curse is contagious, Clara," The Doctor shook his head with a chiding tone. "But the Tardis isn't running properly. Her support systems are unstable, she's been acting up…" He took a deep breath with a grim look in his eyes that unsettled Clara. "There's something… Dark inside her. And if we don't do something about it, who knows what could happen."

"Nothing good, that's for sure," Clara muttered darkly, a shiver running down her spine. Ten minutes ago she had been in her flat, correcting homework with a decent cup of coffee. Now she was standing inside a cursed spaceship, feeling as if a huge weight had been plonked forcefully onto her shoulders. She sighed heavily and cast an uneasy glance around the room before letting her eyes settle on the Doctor once more.

"So what's the plan?" She pressed her lips together determinedly and looked up at him. "And don't tell me you haven't got one or so help me, Doctor."

"Oh I have a plan," The Doctor shuffled from foot to foot uncomfortably, avoiding her searching gaze. "I'm just not sure you'll like it."

"Whatever it is, I'm in," Clara sighed resignedly. The Tardis and herself might not get along all that well, but still she was adamant that she would help save it, regardless of the consequences. If it mattered to the Doctor, it mattered to her.

"You don't know what it is yet," The Doctor replied in a foreboding tone, spinning on his heels abruptly and leaving the room, motioning for Clara to follow him with a languid wave of his arm.

Her thoughts whizzed around her head like a crowd of disorientated hummingbirds as she followed him through the twists and turns of the Tardis tunnels. She felt apprehensive about this plan, whatever it was, and hurried to keep up with the Doctor's long strides as they ventured into a part of the Tardis that was unfamiliar to her.

As the descended a narrow flight of stairs, Clara stopped for a moment and strained her ears with a small gasp, listening. A feather light hushed whispering could be heard, dancing around her as if it was coming from the very walls of the ship itself. She struggled to make out the words, not knowing what they were saying, only that they sounded ominous.

"Clara?"

Clara jumped, startled as she snapped out of it. She looked at the Doctor with wide eyes, suddenly feeling very cold.

"Did you hear…"

"Like you said, the Tardis is sick," The Doctor grunted, his tone worried. Concern was etched onto his features, his jaw taut. "Come on."

"Where are we going, Doctor?"

A wave of unsteadiness came over her, almost as if the Tardis was trying to push her away, to prevent her from coming any farther. She clenched her jaw and fought it, determined to keep up with the Doctor.

"The second I realised something was wrong I started doing my research. That, along with a few tips from the Winchesters, gave me an idea of how I could fix this. Or at least, how I could get to the first step to curing the Tardis."

Clara remained quiet. He hadn't answered her question, but she wasn't certain she wanted to know the answer. She had seen other worlds, other species of being from alien civilisations, but she had never encountered anything of the supernatural sort so far. She couldn't shake the feeling that this might be more dangerous than anything she had ever come across before.

"Here."

The Doctor came to a halt just outside a door and hesitated, casting a quick glance at Clara. She avoided his gaze and peered up at the door instead. It looked heavy, iron cast and was emblazoned with hundreds of artistic sigils that were imprinted into the metal. The hallway that they were standing in was dark, lit only by a few candles adorning the damp walls, and they cast intimidating shadows that flickered across the door, giving it a menacing impression. Clara gulped.

"If you want to back out, be my guest," The Doctor looked down at her sternly, but his eyes were pleading and Clara didn't fail to notice the glint of desperation embedded in those bright orbs. "But I could really use your help on this, Clara."

Clara swallowed her fears and doubts and gave a quick decisive nod as the Doctor proceeded to unbolt and open the large door. She willed her heart rate to slow down as she followed the Doctor inside, almost frightened to see what waited for them.

The room was small, circular, and dim. The floor was dirty and the walls were bare, and Clara felt a shiver run down her spine the second she entered. Bypassing everything else, her eyes fell almost immediately on what was situated in the centre of the room.

A man sat still in a chair, his posture slumped, his head bowed almost as if he was sleeping. He was bound in chains that, on closer inspection, were encrusted with the same strange symbols that she had seen on the door. He wore a suit that was torn in places, and Clara's stomach lurched when she saw the dark crimson blood stains, almost appearing black in the bleak room. Though Clara couldn't get a good look at his face, he appeared to be middle aged, with dark brown hair and the shadow of a beard forming. The chair he was sitting on was in the middle of a wide circle made up of intricate designs similar to the symbols on his restraints. He remained still, and for a second Clara thought he really was sleeping or unconscious, until she noticed the slow smirk spreading across his face. His sinister laughter started low and quiet, then rose to an almost hearty chuckle, which seemed out of place, considering his situation.

He rose his head to acknowledge them, and for a split second Clara could've sworn she saw a flash of blood red in his eyes. She blinked quickly with a gasp, forcing herself to believe she had imagined it.

"Well, if it isn't my good friend, the owner of this 'not so fine' establishment," The man crowed sarcastically, maintaining the same sly smirk. His voice was low and smooth, like velvet. "Back for another round, Doc?"

"Shut up," The Doctor replied flatly, closing the door behind them with a firm thud.

"But I thought you loved our little chats," The man raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "It appears that this relationship is a bit one sided. I'm hurt."

"Clara, this is Crowley," The Doctor's tone was guarded and cold as he addressed her, his eyes never straying from the smug man seated in front of them. "Stay exactly where you are, don't go near him."

"What are you supposed to be?" Crowley's cold gaze dropped to Clara as if noticing her for the first time. "Entertainment?"

"Absolutely not," Clara replied lightly. "We're the ones calling the shots. You're the one tied to a chair. Pay attention."

"Oh, I see," Crowley's glare turned roguish. "Is this the one in charge?"

"Well deduced," Clara quipped back quickly, unable to hold back a small smile at his teasing comment. A quick stern glare from the Doctor had her mashing her lips into a firm line as she dropped her gaze to the floor.

"You're not to approach him, Clara," The Doctor practically growled, glowering at Crowley. "Don't let him get inside your head."

"I'm not getting inside anyone with these fashionable accessories on, Doc," Crowley purred, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he lifted his hands and shook them so that his handcuffs clanked. "No need to worry."

In any other circumstance Clara might have laughed at the man's sharp tongue and acerbic wit, but the Doctor's cold stance was putting her on edge. She decided instead to ask another question that was preying on her mind.

"Doctor, _why_ have you got a man locked up in your Tardis?"

"He's no man," The Doctor growled curtly in reply. Clara lifted a brow and cocked her head to the side, observing.

"Looks like one to me."

Crowley's wicked smirk grew slowly and he winked at her, causing her to suppress a coy smile of her own.

"He's a demon!"

"He's a what?" Clara blinked at Crowley in disbelief, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of her stomach suddenly. She took a step back cautiously and exhaled in a sharp huff. "Sorry I asked."

Crowley shuffled in his seat, causing his restraints to rattle as he forced a sardonic smile onto his face.

"But it's what's on the inside that counts."

"The only thing inside you is a twisted, corrupted soul," The Doctor's lips furled into a snarl in reply. His words seemed to have no effect on Crowley, who merely shrugged, his face frustratingly unreadable.

"Fair enough."

"Doctor, _why_ have you got a demon chained to a chair in a room that looks suspiciously like a dungeon?" Clara was finally getting past the initial shock and beginning to realise the seriousness of the situation. "What the _hell_ is going on?!"

" _Hell_ being the operative word," Crowley smiled widely, as if delighted to hear the word being spoken.

"Quiet, you," Clara ordered before turning her attention back to the Doctor. She now realised that he had really gotten himself into something dangerous this time. She placed her hands on her hips, feeling herself morph effortlessly into teacher mode. "Come on, out with it. What's this plan of yours?"

The Doctor heaved a weary sigh, running a hand through his hair resignedly. The fact that he appeared reluctant to tell her didn't not go amiss by Clara.

"I can explain."

Before either of them could make a move, a large bang interrupted them, causing the floor beneath them to vibrate. Clara let out a yelp as she grabbed the smooth wall to maintain her unsteady balance.

"That didn't sound good, Doc!" Crowley raised his voice to be heard above the resulting aftershocks that resonated throughout the room. "You ought to get someone in to sort that out…" He trailed off and looked down at himself, a peeved expression contorting his face. " _Oh wait_."

Something clicked inside Clara's mind. Though she wasn't certain what the Doctor's plan was, she was beginning to get a fair idea.

"You couldn't have just called in a mechanic, Doctor?" She yelled as another violent crash shook the room. "You had to call in a demon?!"

"Not the sharpest tool in the box, is he?" Crowley growled bitterly, his eyes burning with cold fury as he glowered at the Doctor who was busy pulling open the door.

"Not good, not good," He muttered, taking a peek at the corridor outside. He stepped through the doorway and looked back at Clara. "Clara, we need to lea-"

Before he could finish, the door slammed shut with an ominous bang.

"No!" Clara yelled, rushing up to it and pummelling her fists against it futilely. "Doctor!"

"Looks like it's just you and me, Darling," Crowley's lilting voice drifted to her ears like velvet and it suddenly hit her that she was in trouble. Big trouble. She turned slowly to face him, unable to prevent herself from trembling. "It's not often I get visitors. I'd offer you a drink, but…"

Crowley shook the shackles on his wrists again with raised eyebrows. Clara backed away as far as she possibly could manage without looking too frightened. She wanted to keep a careful distance away from the dangerous demon, but she also didn't want him to know she was intimidated by him. _The Doctor will get to me. It will all be okay._

She avoided the eyes of the demon and looked towards the door again, swallowing back her fear. She took a shaky breath and prepared to raise her voice.

"Doc- Doctor?"

"Gotta love those soundproof walls," Crowley smirked mercilessly and Clara finally looked at him, hoping fervently that those strange symbols would keep him from moving. She figured he would be a lot more dangerous when he wasn't sitting in the middle of that spray painted circle.

"It's going to be okay," She breathed, allowing her eyes to drift shut and calming herself down. "I've got this _all_ under control."

"It's a tad pathetic that you've already resorted to denial, don't you think?" The demon quirked a sly smile, his comment cutting. Clara remained stonily silent, much to Crowley's apparent amusement.

"Don't worry, I don't bite. I leave that to my hellhounds."

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 **So how was that for a first chapter? :D**

 **I'm on my holidays now so hopefully I'll have a lot more time to update this and my other stories!**

 **Speaking of free time I was able to catch up on Supernatural and I just got to the bit where Charlie dies, I freaked. Like honestly, how can that- No. No I refuse to believe it.**

 **But anyway! I'd love it if you left a review, they make me smile :D So go ahead, feel free to leave one letting me know if you liked the story and if I should continue! Thanks Mishamigos laterzzzzzzzzz**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter 2, after an awfully long wait (Sorry!)**

 **I don't know why, but I suddenly just got a load of feels for this ship again and was hit with a blast of inspiration ayyyyyy.**

 **So anyway, I really hope you enjoy this chapter** **Let me know what you think of it!**

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Clara held her breath, closed her eyes, and attempted to prevent herself from launching into a full blown panic attack. She could handle this, she could be in control. She _was_ in control. What was Crowley going to do? He was rendered powerless thanks to the symbols holding him hostage in the enclosed circle. She exhaled sharply and turned around quickly, snapping her eyes open and raising a finger to the demon in warning.

"Don't… Don't say anything just… Don't do anything, don't look at me, don't talk to me, alright?" She raised her hands and took a few steps back, trying and failing to hide her exasperation. Crowley's lips quirked into a sly smile, his dark eyes glittering with mirth.

"Laying down the law already, are we?" He grinned in amusement, his tone almost playful. Clara bit her tongue. He was _not_ supposed to be finding this amusing. The demon's face morphed into an expression of mock disappointment and he shook his head in an impersonation of defeat. "Just my luck, not only am I bound and chained, but I also happen to be stuck in a dungeon with a control freak. I must have done some _really_ bad things to deserve this."

He smirked sadistically and Clara felt a shiver run down her spine at his last sentence, not wanting to think about all the horrible things he had probably done. Her feelings about that however were overrun by the boiling anger she felt at his previous statement.

"I am _not_ a control freak!" She yelled indignantly, immediately inwardly cringing at how defensive her tone sounded. Crowley shrugged with a conceited expression.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sweetheart," He smiled demurely. "At least you're easy on the eyes. Oh, wait, I'm not supposed to look at you, am I?"

Clara glowered, struggling to fight off the light blush she felt rising to her cheeks as Crowley coughed deliberately and muttered _"control freak"_.

"Right, I don't know if you're flirting with me or bullying me, but I don't think I like it," Clara stated sternly, forcing her best glare onto her face and trying hard not to show Crowley how afraid she actually was right now. She didn't know what this demon's intentions were, and it put her on edge. She paused, pursing her lips and observing him cautiously. "Plus, you're a demon. That fact alone makes me wonder why I'm even talking to you."

"Objection," Crowley raised his eyebrows tauntingly and raised his hand as far as his restraints would allow. "Discrimination."

Clara took a deep breath and turned around in a full circle in frustration as if the action would somehow clear her head. The only thing she seemed to achieve was amusing Crowley even further.

"Either I need to get out or you do," She huffed, her panic beginning to rise again. She eyed the chains he was bound in nervously. If he got free, she didn't want to imagine what he might do.

"What's wrong, Sheriff?" Crowley feigned innocence but his mischievous smile gave him away. "This town not big enough for the both of us?"

"Shut up shut up _shut up_ ," Clara moaned, flopping down onto the ground and placing her head in her hands. For once, she was at a loss as to what to do. She found herself hoping fervently that the Doctor would arrive soon. She wasn't sure what exactly was wrong with the Tardis, but its condition was definitely worsening.

"By all means, let me go," Crowley shrugged nonchalantly and his chains rattled, the sound echoing in the circular room. " _I'm_ not stopping you."

"Think I like you right where you are actually, thanks," Clara muttered and shivered, drawing her arms up around herself protectively. She bit her lip thoughtfully and was surprised when Crowley remained quiet. She tried to fight the urge to look up at the demon but ultimately failed, and her heart stopped momentarily when their eyes met. She stifled a quiet gasp, remembering the flash of red she had sworn she had saw when she first laid eyes on him.

Crowley wasn't smiling any more. Instead he seemed to be examining her, scrutinizing her, his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed slightly. Clara almost protested before she realised she was doing the same to him. She began to notice small things about him, even just the way he held himself that reminded her he wasn't quite human. He was much more intimidating, much more dangerous. She could see it in his eyes.

"Are your eyes normally red?" She blurted out before she could stop herself. She bit her lip nervously. "Sorry."

"Quite a flattering shade actually, yes," Crowley smiled, his eyes still narrowed, looking slightly surprised at her question. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just… Nothing," She mumbled, looking down at the ground. She hesitated, wondering if she should continue and deciding to ignore the fact that she should probably just shut up. "Just… Why aren't they red now?"

"I chose for them not to be," Crowley stated with a slight frown as if it was the most blatantly obvious thing in the world. "Why, would you prefer my irises looked like the fiery pits of Hell?"

"So Hell really is all fire and that, then?" Clara raised her head, suddenly intrigued. "Thought it wasn't even real."

"Hell is Hell," Crowley shrugged, scrutinizing Clara some more. He smiled dryly. "Call for a visit sometime, you'll see how real it is."

Clara shivered at his tone as it became dark and slightly menacing, though for some reason she didn't feel like he was threatening her. Maybe she should, but at this point she didn't care. She tapped her finger against the cold stone floor, pondering. A minute passed, or maybe it was ten, maybe more, she was beginning to lose track of time.

"Alright," She spoke up abruptly, holding her chin high as she addressed Crowley. "I have made the decision not to kill you."

"A horrible decision, really," Crowley replied smoothly, his eyes glinting smugly.

Clara scoffed scornfully and rested her chin on her knees. She tried to avoid eye contact with Crowley, scared she might get lost in his eyes and lose control again, blurting something out without thinking. Instead she found herself once again looking at the floor, her eyes wandering over to the circle of intricate symbols that Crowley was situated in the middle of. She stared at the symbols closest to her, wondering why they were necessary, wondering what power they held.

"What are you thinking?"

She jumped at Crowley's quiet, velvet-like voice, snapping her head up to look at him. She opened her mouth to reply then closed it again, unsure what to say. Crowley smiled, the gesture not quite reaching his eyes.

"Wondering what will happen if you step over that fine line?" He purred teasingly, inclining his head towards the symbol on the floor. "It's called a devil's trap, by the way. Who says this experience can't be educational?"

Clara shook her head fervently, biting her lip again softly as she thought out how to respond. Crowley leaned forward, his eyes glinting maliciously.

"Wondering what I'll do?"

"No… Course not. Didn't even cross my mind."

Clara met his eyes with a steely gaze, stretched and stood up in an attempt to make herself seem more in control. Crowley gave her a smug smile.

"I think you're scared."

"I'm _not._ "

" _Prove it."_

"Fine!" Clara's own voice surprised her as she practically shouted back at the smirking demon and took a few determined steps forward. She stopped suddenly, hovering on the edge of the ominous line. She steeled herself and look up at Crowley who was watching her intently. Shaking her head with a frown, she took a step back.

"I'm not your puppet," She snapped, turning around and facing the wall, refusing to look at the demon. She shivered when she heard him chuckle darkly.

"Right little firecracker, aren't you? It's like the fourth of July over here."

Clara exhaled in a huff but couldn't help but crack a smile. The demon's tone was light hearted, he wasn't mocking. She turned around to face him and sighed, shrugging her shoulders helplessly.

"So what do I do? What the hell do I do?" She resisted the urge to throw herself down on the ground again. "I'm stuck in a room with a sassy demon and I have _no idea what to do_."

"Maybe stop thinking out loud?" Crowley raised an eyebrow jokingly.

"Like I said, sassy."

"Save it, sunshine. You can give as good as you get."

Clara rolled her eyes and laughed lightly.

"You're an idiot."

"How so?" Crowley feigned mock hurt.

"You're a demon. You shouldn't be making me laugh when I'm supposed to hate you."

"Who said you're supposed to hate me just because I'm a demon?"

"Uhh, common sense?"

"Sounds like discrimination to me."

"Sounds like demons are traditionally evil and not to be trusted so I'm just following my instincts," Clara smirked, folding her arms across her chest and beginning to pace slowly. The room was eerie, and was mainly empty except for a tray filed with rusty, lethal looking instruments. She approached it cautiously for a closer look. She shuddered in disgust as she examined it, and reached out carefully to pick up a container filled with water.

"I'd rather you didn't mess around with that. It's making me nervous."

"What?" Clara spun around to look at Crowley and raised an eyebrow. "Afraid of a bit of water?"

"Water, not so much. Holy water, yes."

"Holy water hurts you?" Clara's eyes widened in disbelief and she forced down a scoff. "Seriously? I thought that was just a myth."

"Well, Darling, let's just say I won't be doing holy water shots any time soon," Crowley replied dryly.

"Sorry," Clara mumbled, quickly replacing the vial of liquid. Her gaze strayed to an old battered looking book that lay by the table. On closer inspection, she found that the words seemed to be almost entirely in Latin. She frowned, picking it up carefully so as not to damage the frail binding, and turned it to see the cover.

 _Exorcisms._

"You're entering very dangerous territory there, Clara Oswald," Crowley muttered darkly, his tone sounding like a threat. "I'd put that book down if I were you."

Clara looked at Crowley, then back at the book. She knew what an exorcism was, of course. She had seen the movies. All you had to do was read a few words and then…

She looked at Crowley again, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest. Could she really do this? It could go terribly wrong, but if it did work, surely it would be better off for everyone. Crowley could go back to Hell, and Clara would no longer be in the company of a dangerous demon who could potentially kill her if she made one wrong move. Taking a deep breath, she made a snap decision in her mind.

"Clara," Crowley warned as she began to flip through the thick pages, decorated with spiralling symbols and foreign writing. She squinted at the pages, trying to identify which would expel the demon and send him back to Hell. She looked up at the rattling of chains to see Crowley, his expression both angry and tense. He clenched his jaw as Clara smoothed her hand carefully over the correct page.

"Don't."

Crowley…"

"Do _not_."

Clara squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them to look at the page again. She could be making a _very_ big mistake, but it seemed to be her only hope of doing something about this situation.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immunus spiritus," She began shakily, casting a quick glance at Crowley just to see if anything was happening. She wasn't even certain she was pronouncing the words right, let alone if she was doing the right thing. Crowley remained unmoving, glaring at her icily as he clutched the armrests of the chair unbearably tightly. Clara looked down at the book again quickly, an uncomfortable knot of fear clenching in her stomach.

"Trying to get rid of me already?" Crowley spat sarcastically. "And we were just getting aquainted."

"Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio-" She paused to see Crowley clenching his jaw tightly and squirming in his seat. "-Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio-"

"It won't work," Crowley hissed venomously, leaning forward slightly. "You have to _mean_ it."

"Omnis congregation et secta diablica," Clara took a deep breath as Crowley began to choke and she looked up with a gasp. Red smoke began to rise from his throat and threatened to spill from his mouth. "E-Ergo… Ergo draco maledicte…"

She jumped with a squeak as Crowley growled, swallowing down the red smoke and overpowering her words. His eyes flashed red as he snarled at her.

"Give up now," He growled in warning. " _Stop_."

Clara blinked back a few tears of frustration and threw the book to the ground.

"Fine," She spat bitterly. "You're right. I don't mean it. I just thought this would get us both out of this! You don't _want_ to be trapped here, and I want to get out without being killed by a demon!"

"I'm not going to kill you, Clara," He replied bluntly, his eyes returning to their normal colour with a blink. "But attempting to exorcise a demon without experience is _not_ a very clever idea. I may want to get out of here, but I like this meat suit. I do things on my own terms."

"I'm sorry," She whispered, sinking slowly to the ground once more and wrapping her arms around her knees tightly. She didn't look at Crowley, but she could tell he was shuffling around in his seat impatiently by the rattling of the chains he was bound in.

"I don't think you understand how easily I could kill you," He muttered darkly.

"Well you don't seem to be doing very much stuck in that chair," Clara snapped back before she could stop herself. She froze, expecting Crowley to lose his temper, but instead the demon smirked with a quick muttered, _"touché"._

"I like the bling though," Clara nodded to the shackles on his wrists, unable to help herself from smiling slightly.

"I appreciate the compliment," Crowley smirked sarcastically, clenching and unclenching his fists unconsciously. "But when, yes _when_ I get out of here, one simple click of my fingers is all it takes. Just so you know where we stand."

"And here I thought we were becoming friends," Clara responded dryly. Crowley shrugged.

"I treat all my friends like this."

"Well, I'm sure you have absolutely _lots_ then," Clara replied in a sarcastic tone, shaking her head with a small smile.

"You can't say much, social butterfly," Crowley raised an eyebrow challengingly. "At least my only friend isn't an extra-terrestrial grey-haired stick insect."

"You think you're _so_ superior," Clara scoffed in disbelief, standing up abruptly and folding her arms across her chest indignantly. Crowley pulled an innocent face.

"Just because you're a demon from Hell means you're better? You're above me?" Clara raised an eyebrow. "Discrimination. And anyway, technically, you're below me."

She pointed to the ground and smirked, her eyebrow remaining raised. Crowley smirked smugly and leaned back in his chair.

"King."

"What?"

" _King_ of Hell, sweetheart. Just to clarify."

Clara's heart skipped a beat. What had she gotten herself into?

* * *

 **Soooo there it is! Chapter 2 is finitoooo. I always have so much fun writing their conversations hahahaha xD**

 **So tell me did you like it do you ship it should I write more AHHHHHHH leave a review and let me know :D**

 **Until the next chapter, my fandom friends!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Decided to start writing this chapter now to take my mind off things cause I'm sad angry and annoyed because of stupid people** **Hate when other people seem to think they have the right to make you feel bad**

 **Well anyway, hopefully this'll cheer me up a bit, hope you enjoy this chapter! x**

* * *

Here she was again, finding herself stuck in a sticky situation, a problematic predicament that was seemingly endless.

She was stuck in a bunker with the king of Hell.

To be fair to him, she realised, he wasn't mouthing off anymore. She hadn't heard any snarky comments or cutting insults from him for a while. He had remained uncharacteristically quiet.

She looked up at him from her slumped position on the floor against the wall, basically as far away from the demon as she could possibly get. Though she knew he posed no real threat right now, she still decided she ought to give him some space. If she infuriated him, she wasn't certain she'd live to tell the tale.

Crowley was tugging futilely at the collar around his neck, his jaw clenched tightly in a grimace of pain. Clara winced when she saw the blood around his neck, unsure whether it had been self-inflicted from attempting to remove the collar or had got there by other, more sinister means.

"Don't-" She hesitated for a moment as her voice broke the silence between them abruptly, but carried on after a short pause. "Don't do that. You'll only hurt yourself more."

Crowley hissed in pain but didn't respond, choosing instead to ignore her words completely and claw at the restricting collar once more. Clara sighed, in pity and exasperation at the demon acting like a petulant child and choosing to ignore her advice.

"Crowley-"

"What do you care?" The demon hissed venomously, his tone laced with hatred so intense that she was almost sure it wasn't directed completely at her. He had been hurt before, she realised, had gone through this sort of thing before. Her heart thudded in her chest as he glared at her menacingly, and she decided she would've rather seen his eyes flash ruby red than receive the death stare he was holding fiercely in his gaze right now.

"I'm not completely heartless," Clara exclaimed, her eyes narrowing in return. "I don't like seeing people in pain, demon or not."

"I don't need your pity," Crowley spat in return, his hostile glare now directed at the floor as he fumbled with the collar once more.

"I'm not asking you to receive it," Clara replied, surprising herself at how gentle her tone sounded. "But… I just…" She trailed off slowly, unsure where she was taking this. She frowned, realising in frustration that the demon more than likely wouldn't give a damn anyway. "Never mind."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Crowley grumbled irritably. "Keeps your thoughts to yourself next time, Oswald."

"Don't blame me for having emotions!"

"Oh, how very _human_ of you," Crowley drawled, raising a hand to his neck once more and then letting it drop in defeat. Clara sighed in resignation, allowing her eyes to wander for another moment. As they fell on the table again, complete with the tray containing strange, dangerous looking utensils, she decided to examine them properly this time. She gulped as she approached, reaching out a trembling hand to pick up a sharp, rusty blade. She turned it over and dropped it with a jolt as she realised it was encrusted with blood, her stomach churning. Her eyes fell on the vial of holy water, and it all clicked into place.

"Crowley?" She called out breathlessly, her eyes still frozen to the lethal disarray of what was clearly torture equipment. She was met with stony silence that chilled her to the bone, only confirming her sickening suspicions. But she still had to be sure.

She turned around slowly, struggling to keep her breathing even, and faced the demon. He stared back at her, hands now clasped firmly in his lap. The stare he gave her was so intense, Clara almost got the feeling that he was staring right into her soul.

"These… Things, they aren't-" Clara paused, and took a deep breath to steel herself for the answer she knew and feared. "These aren't used to… To torture-" She winced as she managed to choke the word out. "… _You_ , are they? Not… Not by the Doctor, surely…"

Crowley held her gaze, his mouth forming a small, humourless smile.

"Don't worry your pretty little head, darling, I'm used to it. Seen plenty of hunters in my day. People just love to tie me up and do what they want with me."

His voice was dripping with sarcasm, a small smirk in place on his mouth, but his eyes weren't joking at all and Clara felt her stomach drop.

Clara squeezed her eyes shut, inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Opening her eyes, she began to walk forwards determinedly. Crowley's eyes widened as she approached quickly, not even hesitating as she stepped right over the outer circle of the devil's trap.

"Clara…"

"Shhh," Clara ordered softly but sternly as she approached the now wide eyed demon, stopping right beside the chair he was bound in. She reached out a hand slowly, unthinkingly. Just before her trembling fingers made contact with the cool metal of the collar around his neck, Crowley recoiled, flinching away from her tough. Clara blinked, surprised to see that his eyes were filled with fear.

"What are you doing?" He croaked, staring at her as if she was mad. Clara opened her mouth to speak then closed it again, her hand still hovering in the air between them.

"I… Don't know," She answered in a truthful whisper. "But… Can you just let me?"

Crowley tensed up and Clara was beginning to feel way out of her depth again. But she was never one to back down from a challenge. Instead of reaching for the collar once more, she stretched out her hand cautiously to touch the shackles on his wrists. She should've expected Crowley's reaction to be just as guarded as before, but she still gasped in surprise when he jumped at her touch, wincing slightly.

Biting her lip, she slowly placed her small fingers on his wrist again, and this time, Crowley didn't pull away. Instead he was stock still, frozen in place, completely tensed up. Clara cast a quick glance up at his face. He was looking down at her hand on his in terror mixed with fascination and confusion.

Clara returned her attention to his restraints, tracing a finger over one of the symbols engraved on them gently. Crowley's wrists were red and painful looking, obviously from wrestling with the restraints. Her eyes began to wander and she couldn't help but gasp as she saw the amount of blood that covered Crowley's suit, now noticing how much more disheveled he really looked from this close.

"He calls himself the Doctor, but his medical tendencies don't quite seem to stretch to the welfare of demons," Crowley grimaced darkly, watching Clara's roaming gaze like a hawk.

"I- I don't understand," Clara whispered, aghast as she unthinkingly traced a finger over one of Crowley's bloodied hands, making sure to avoid the scratches and cuts that littered them from the struggle. "Why would he do this, he-"

"Why does anyone do anything? To gain something from it," Crowley explained, his tone one of exasperation. He drew back his hand with a shiver and Clara blinked, suddenly realising what she was doing and straightening up as much as she could manage whilst still remaining crouched next to his chair. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with curiosity. She needed to know what exactly was going on, she needed to understand this. She knew the Doctor somehow believed that this demon could help with the Tardis but then why…

"Information."

The two chorused simultaneously, Crowley's expression resigned and Clara's expectant.

"We're a double act already and we've only just met," Crowley smirked, some of the mirth back in his eyes. "You catch on fast, little human."

"So, information for what?" Clara pondered with a frown. She snapped her eyes up to meet Crowley's again. "To fix the Tardis or something?"

"Information on curses, I believe," Crowley's smirked faded and his expression hardened. "More specifically, on the Book of the Damned. Information I don't quite feel like giving away, _so_ …"

"Book of the Damned," Clara muttered thoughtfully, her hands resting on the armrests on Crowley's chair, keeping her balanced. "Never heard of it. And I'm an avid reader."

"Be grateful you haven't heard of it," Crowley replied, raising an eyebrow. "It's much more dangerous than you can comprehend."

"Almost as dangerous as you?" Clara grinned cheekily, unable to help herself.

"Let's not go that far, shall we?" Crowley winked and Clara chuckled in return.

"But…" A dark cloud settled over Clara's mind once more. "I still don't get it, the Doctor can't be torturing you for information, he's… He's _the Doctor._ "

"People who trap demons in devil's traps to interrogate them don't exactly win the gold star for hospitality," Crowley replied dryly, his smile forced.

"I can't…" Clara trailed off, feeling a lump rise in her throat. She felt betrayed for some reason. Alright, so maybe this man was an evil demon, but she still didn't agree with these methods. She needed to hear this confession from the Doctor himself.

Hesitantly, she reached out her hand again, her eyes trained once more on the metal collar. It looked heavy, and was encrypted with more symbols than she had ever seen. She couldn't even begin to comprehend what they all meant. She held her breath, watching Crowley's reaction carefully. The demon had tensed up again, but she didn't let that deter her. More slowly than she was even aware that she could move, she finally came into contact with the shiny metal. Crowley shuddered as her fingers ghosted over his neck and she muttered a quick apology. The demon's eyes were now squeezed tightly shut, as he exhaled slowly.

"You good?" She questioned, her voice barely above a whisper, his fingers still hovering over his neck.

"Never," Crowley retorted, his trademark smirk back in place and for a brief moment, Clara cracked a smile. A proper grin. All her troubles faded away for that split second as amusement washed over her.

And then reality struck her again.

"Crowley."

His name felt different on her tongue, and it hit her for a moment how strange it must actually be to be talking to a demon this casually. She seemed to almost be immune to strange now.

Crowley turned his head to look at her, holding her gaze. He quirked an eyebrow at Clara's forlorn expression.

"What's with the puppy dog eyes?"

"What puppy dog eyes?" Clara exclaimed defensively.

"You're doing it again. Enough. Shut them off."

"I just-" Clara sighed and rolled her eyes. "Just- I mean, look at you! I know demons are meant to be evil and all that, but to torture them…"

She shuddered despite herself, staring at the ground instead of at Crowley.

"Oh, don't start getting all sappy on me now, Oswald," Crowley muttered in exasperation. "Like I said before, I don't need your pity."

"You're right," Clara looked up with a shrug. "Maybe you don't need pity. But you need someone to care."

"I'm a demon. I don't deserve that."

His words hurt Clara for some reason, and suddenly she couldn't find it in herself to feel angry at this man. Because he was broken. He had probably done some unimaginably terrible things, things she didn't even want to know about, but at that moment she didn't care. Because she didn't see a demon in front of her. Clara's kind heart saw a broken man who was hurt and had no one to care for him.

"It doesn't matter," She whispered, letting her hand fall back down to her side.

And then Crowley was looking at her, looking at her so intensely that she couldn't have looked away even if she wanted to. Her heart skipped a beat and part of her knew that he wasn't just seeing her outward appearance, he was seeing more than just that.

"Your soul is fascinating," He murmured, leaning forward, his eyebrows drawn together in curiosity as he gazed at her. He wasn't even touching her, but the exchange between them felt so intimate that she almost forgot how to breathe. "So kind, so pure… But with the potential to do something dark if it was to protect the ones you love."

"We all have our demons," Clara breathed, her eyes still glued to his, staring deep into his dark, entrancing irises.

Crowley smirked with a chuckle and leaned back, breaking the spell. Clara sucked in a huge breath of air, trying not to let Crowley see how flustered she was. How flustered she was because of _him._ She exhaled slowly, attempting to calm her racing heart. Damn that demon to Hell and back.

Before either of them could make another move, the room seemed to shudder slightly, the lights flickering and the walls groaning. Clara snapped her head around to look at Crowley.

"Not me," He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling in light amusement.

Clara heard the Tardis whir loudly and the shuddering stopped abruptly. She barely had time to form a coherent thought before the door swung open with a grinding metallic creak.

"Doctor!" Clara yelled, springing to her feet and sprinting towards the door. She stopped just short of the tall alien, reminding herself not to hug him just in the nick of time.

"Clara," He exclaimed, brandishing his screwdriver in the air, his eyes wide. "Sorry, God, sorry. Various functions of the Tardis have been shutting down all over the shop. Can't believe I left you in there so long. Can't believe you're still alive. Well-" He spluttered at seeing Clara's steely expression. "Of course I knew you'd be alive, it's perfectly safe-"

His gaze fell on Crowley, who smirked and gave him a cheery wave from the centre of the room.

"You," The Doctor's Scottish accent became more pronounced as he took a step forward, raising his finger to point at the nonchalant demon. "If you did anything to hurt her-"

"He didn't hurt me, Doctor," Clara stepped in front of the Time Lord defiantly.

"Listen to your lady friend, Doc. She's a wise one."

"My name is Clara, as you well know," Clara quipped back at Crowley, whose smirk grew even more.

"Hope you don't mind if I call you darling."

"Enough with the flirting, I don't have the patience for this!" The Doctor threw his hand in the air exasperatedly. "Clara, we're leaving."

"Yes, we are," Clara folded her arms and looked the Doctor dead in the eye. "We need to talk."

She pushed past him, leaving the bunker behind without a second glance. Or so she had thought.

"Goodbye, Clara. I look forward to date number two."

Clara couldn't resist looking back over her shoulder to see Crowley wink at her, his infectious smirk still in place. She found herself smiling at the fact that he had finally called her by her given name.

"We'll see," She offered a smirk of her own. "I've already wondered what it would be like to go out with royalty."

The King of Hell chuckled as she turned on her heel and walked out the door, leaving a baffled Doctor to hurry to catch up with her. She continued walking briskly until she realised she had no idea where she was going and her thought began to finally catch up with her.

 _Oh crap. I just flirted with a demon who lives in the fiery pits of Hell._

 _Oh_ _ **crap.**_ _I just flirted with a demon who_ _ **runs**_ _the fiery pits of Hell._

What had she done? What was she _doing?_ She must be insane, she had to be. All that time spent travelling to different alien civilisations had finally had an effect on her. And now she was beginning to lose her mind.

Why did Crowley have such an effect on her? Why did the simple act of even just talking to him send adrenaline coursing through her veins?

"-Clara? Are you even listening to me?"

"What?" Clara spun around, nearly crashing right into the lanky, uncoordinated Time Lord.

"I _said_ , control's room's that way."

"Right," She breathed, following the Doctor down a different corridor, up another flight of precariously placed stairs, around another corner, and finally, back in the control room.

"Thank God it stayed where it was meant to this time," The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief, looking around the room.

"Things are that bad, eh?" Clara cocked her head to the side.

"Yes, yes the as they are," The Doctor replied, his tone impatient and fed up as he went to examine the console.

"Bad enough that you had to _torture_ a bloody demon just to get information on how to get rid of this curse?" Clara practically yelled, trying and failing to lower her voice. The Doctor swallowed audibly and went pale.

"Clara, listen to me-"

"No! No, you listen to _me,_ " Clara ordered, her tone bursting with anger. "I know he's a demon, I know he's evil, I know he's the kind of thing we usually fight off but this time _you_ went looking for him, and _you_ decided to torture him!"

"I know it's not the most moral of methods, Clara, but-"

"I'm not _finished_ ," Clara hissed, tears pricking her eyes. She wished she didn't cry when she got angry, it made her feel so pathetic, but she could help it. "You can't do this, Doctor! It's not right! You can't just torture someone for information, it's- It's barbaric!"

"Clara, I have lived a lot longer than you, and I have met many different types of people," The Doctor replied sternly, his face cold as stone. "I talked to hunters, people who deal with this kind of thing on a regular basis. Their methods may not seem good, but they are doing it for good. And trust me when I say that that man in there, that _demon_ , is a killer. He is a monster. And I'd be doing the world a whole lot of good if I killed him right now."

"Doctor, this isn't _you_ ," Clara was trying hard to keep the tears at bay now. She hated that what most of what he said made sense, but still she couldn't bear to think about the horrible reality of this.

"This is me, Clara, whether you like it or not," The Doctor stated bluntly. "I have had to do things before, things that have made me question whether what I'm doing is the right thing, but if it saves lives, I will do it. Because that's what I do, Clara. I save people."

"To save your soul," Clara choked out, feeling traitor tears roll down her cheeks. "You save them, to save you. To make up for all the wrong you do."

"Clara-"

"And I admire that, Doctor, really I do," Clara nodded briskly, closing her eyes for a moment. "But you asked me once if I thought you were a good man."

"Clara, please-"

"And I'm really not sure if I think you are."

Clara turned and left the room briskly, wiping away her tears hastily and choking back a sob. Maybe the Doctor was right, in fact he probably was. He nearly always was. But Clara was blinded by her kind heart, her kind soul, as Crowley had put it. And she couldn't stand the idea of someone being tortured while she just let it happen.

Despite this, she didn't leave the Tardis. She simply walked down slightly familiar halls, hoping that the Tardis hadn't relocated her bedroom again. She was in too deep to back out now. She was going to stay, and she was going to do her best to help solve this problem.

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 **Wow I feel a lot better after writing that** **Really took my mind off things! I hope you liked it, I'm gunna start working on chapter four really soon!**

 **Might go watch some Supernatural, Crowley makes me feel happy. He's literally my favourite character on SPN. Speaking of favourite characters, who's yours? :D Come on, talk to me people! :D**

 **And if you want, leave a review to let me know what you think! It'd really make my day**


	4. Chapter 4

**Holaaaaa mishamigossssss what's the story in Balamory?**

 **Anyway, I'm not sure if much people like this story but I'm gunna continue anyway because I really like this pairing and for once I actually know where I'm going with this story. Sort of. A little bit. To a certain extent. Like I've actually kind of planned ahead for once, usually I just start typing and go with it. But hopefully this means I'll be updating more frequently yup yup yyuuuupppppp SO anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter it's probably bad and really stupid but I'll chance it anyway!**

 **Oh and by the way if you like this pairing search them up on youtube and you'll probably see the fanvids I made for them, just if you ship it and you want to have a look at the fanvids :D**

 **Kay I'll shut up now, enjoyyyy!**

Clara Oswald snapped opened her wide eyes and sat bolt upright, her chest heaving as she panted with her breath coming in quick short gasps.

Something was not right.

She leaned forward in her bed, bringing her hands to her head and trying to hear past the roaring of her heart pounding in her ears. She had only just managed to doze off but had been woken abruptly from her light sleep, almost certain she had heard something. Or sensed something at least.

Her breathing finally returning to normal, she looked around and slowly slid out of bed, tiptoeing quietly across the floor and leaving the room. She wondered if it was just the Tardis playing up again which was very likely, or even her imagination. She shook her head with a scoff. No. When was anything ever _just her imagination_ these days?

She crept down the eerie corridor quietly, straining her ears to listen for any indication of what might have woken her. She was housing a sickening feeling of dread lingering in the pit of her stomach and she was starting to find it particularly hard to ignore. Swallowing back a nervous gulp, she adamantly continued her investigation, not really certain where she was going but knowing for sure that she wasn't going back to sleep tonight.

She jumped with a gasp and froze as she heard something that sounded like a crash and a muffled yell. Clara blinked rapidly and inhaled deeply to calm her racing heart, unsure what exactly she had heard but one thought came directly to mind.

Crowley.

She began to run, unaware of which direction would deliver her to her desired destination so deciding to take every opportunity to go downwards. A wave of sudden bravery hit her as she sprinted around corners, determined to find out what was happening and put a stop to it if she must. Before long she found herself panting and shivering in a dark secluded corridor of the Tardis, and recognition hit her. This was the place.

"Where are you?" She murmured quietly, searching around for the door as she walked. It was huge and covered with freaky symbols, you couldn't miss it. She knew she'd have to come across it at some point. Another haunting wail came from her left and she darted towards it, fear shooting through her. The place was dark and it was a convoluted maze of intricately woven narrow corridors, she hated being alone here. Another loud shout pointed her in the right direction once again, and this time she realised with sickening dread that she recognised the voice. She heard the piercing scream just as she finally caught sight of the door, the pained noise causing her stomach to drop and her blood to run cold.

The door was ajar, hence why she could hear the unpleasant sounds, and she crept towards it hesitantly. Now that she was this close she could hear the voices more clearly and she shuddered at the thought of what might be going on. She reached out the pull the door open further and cringed when she realised her hand was shaking. She mentally scolded herself for being so afraid, tugging the door open with all her strength and bolting through.

"- _Tell_ me or so help me I will- Clara?"

Clara stood frozen to the spot with her jaw agape as she stared at the Doctor who had just spoken, a look of shock plastered onto his face. His expression reminded her of the look one of her students might give when they got caught cheating on an exam.

"Hell's bells! Finally, the party's here," Crowley panted with a forced smile. He gritted his teeth and forcefully spat out blood onto the ground, determinedly aiming for the Doctor's polished shoes.

The Doctor was standing before a dishevelled Crowley, a bloody knife in one hand and a syringe filled with what she suspected was holy water in the other. The demon in question remained in his chair, a murderous glare in his eyes and covered in so much blood that Clara began to feel sick.

"What the bloody hell is going on?!" She yelled, the strength in her voice surprising her for a moment. The Doctor's face turned to steel and he glowered at her as if it was _her_ that had done something wrong. This infuriated the young schoolteacher even more.

"You're not supposed to be here, Clara-"

"Oh, don't you tell me what I can and can't do, don't you _dare_!" She shouted, pointing at him with angry tears in her eyes. She couldn't help feeling betrayed. "Look at you, look at what you're doing!"

"It's necessary," The Doctor growled, shooting Crowley a look as he spoke. The demon glared back and pulled a face.

"How can you even say that?" Clara shook her head slowly, disbelieving. "How can you…"

"Listen chums, I'd rather not get caught up in this little domestic, so if you don't mind…" Crowley glowered at the Doctor again and struggled to break free from the restraints. His mouth twisted into a sinister snarl. "Untie me you ape!"

"Shut up, Crowley," The Doctor spat. "It's not happening. Not in a million years."

"Don't worry, darling, if I have my way you'll be long dead long before then," Crowley snarled viciously.

"I said shut it!"

"Oh, go home, you obnoxiously arrogant high functioning moron," Crowley drawled, a small smirk growing on his face. "Oh wait… You don't _have_ a home, do you? Shame."

Clara cried out in protest as the Doctor's fist connected with Crowley's jaw. The demon merely spat out more blood and stretched his neck with a wince.

"Not very friendly."

"And not uncalled for," The Doctor growled in response, flexing his fist with a grimace.

"Shut up, both of you!" Clara yelled, moving to stand between the two. She set her jaw adamantly. "Or I'll be the one throwing slaps."

"Feisty."

"Enough!" Clara held up a hand to silence Crowley and turned to face the Doctor. "Why, Doctor. Why are you doing this?"

"It's the only way to make him talk," The Time Lord replied curtly.

"And how's that going for you sunshine?" Crowley grinned smugly, crossing his arms as best he could considering he was handcuffed and leaning back. "Let's have a look at your notes on the subject… Oh _right_ , blank blank blankity blank."

"He _won't_ talk!" The Doctor ignored the demon and looked earnestly at Clara. "Well, apart from the snarky comments and occasional death threats. I need information that only he has access to, and if he doesn't play along that's his own decision."

"Oh really? Forgive me if I don't quite recall agreeing to being tied up and locked in your bloody basement!"

"I should torch you right now," The Doctor's voice was low and menacing as he stared at Crowley who gave a haughty smirk in return.

"Oh go ahead, light me up like a firework if it pleases you but it's not going to stop me from tearing you limb from limb once I get out of this," He replied with a sharp tilt of his head.

"Stop it, stop this game of yours," The Doctor practically growled, striding right up to Crowley and staring down at him in silent fury. He held a jagged knife in his hand, and judging by the glistening sheen of liquid that was dripping off it, it appeared to have been doused in holy water. Crowley set his jaw and narrowed his eyes, unrelenting.

"Doctor," Clara warned, beginning to feel nauseous. She couldn't believe this, she couldn't believe that there were really hunters out there who did this sort of thing. And she couldn't believe the Doctor was participating in this as well.

"You're way out of your depth, Doc," Crowley hissed, the glare in his eyes threatening.

Before Clara could blink, the Doctor had dug the knife into Crowley's side. Clara screamed and rushed over, pushing the Doctor back. Crowley cried out in pain as steam hissed from the wound where the knife was still firmly stuck and swore loudly. He struggled to pull it out and Clara unthinkingly put her hands over his, helping him. She felt tears of horror prick her eyes as they pulled the knife out, and she grabbed it from Crowley grasp and threw it aside firmly.

"Are you okay?" She gasped, feeling a couple of tears fall as she blinked. She was still in shock.

"What do you think?" Crowley panted, his face contorted in pain as he clutched his side. Steam still rose from his clothes and Clara had to work hard to stop more tears from falling. She turned to the Doctor.

"I've had _enough_ ," She sighed, worn out from shouting. "This is going too far."

"Clara listen to me," The Doctor put his hands up as Clara rounded on him, setting her jaw angrily. "This man is a demon. A _demon_. I am doing the right thing here!"

"Oh for God's sake, we're not going through this again!" Clara exclaimed in exasperation.

"I just-"

"Okay, time for you to go," Clara interrupted him and looked the Doctor in the eye, keeping her expression stern.

"W- What?" The Time Lord spluttered, his eyebrows knitting together. He gestured to Crowley. "But he-"

"I'm taking control here, Time Boy. I'm the boss now," Clara tucked her chin up and held her head high.

"Sorry, refresh my memory," Clara fought the urge to roll her eyes at the slightly pained velvet tone of voice that came from behind her. "Didn't you say you're _not_ a control freak?"

"You," Clara turned to give Crowley a look. "Stop talking."

"Oh, that's right," He smirked, despite the action causing him to wince. "You shouted it defiantly at the top of your lungs."

"Shut up, Crowley," She spun around, undeterred, ready to address the Doctor again.

"Come on, Eyebrows, you have to leave," She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the door. "I'll take care of this."

"That' right, Doc, clear off," Crowley hissed, still gasping from the pain. "Out of sight, out of my murderously angry mind."

The Doctor shot him a glare but decided not to respond. He returned his attention to Clara once again.

"Are you mad?!" He scoffed looking from Crowley to Clara. "I'm not leaving you alone with him!"

"Listen, Doctor," Clara lowered her voice to barely above a whisper and edged closer to the ancient alien. "If it's information you want, then maybe I can make him talk. He's not going anywhere any time soon, I'm perfectly safe. At least let me try, please."

"Clara," The Doctor shook his head slowly with a frown, looking unconvinced. "I don't know-"

"Please, Doctor," Clara looked up at him earnestly. "Please just trust me on this."

The Doctor closed his eyes with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Clara Oswald, you will be the death of me."

"Is that a yes?" Clara grinned.

"Fine, fine. Go, do what you want. I won't be far. Just don't do anything stupid."

"Thank you, Doctor," Clara smiled brightly, trying to display how grateful she was to him for giving her this chance. Maybe she could make this work without anyone having to get hurt. The Doctor rolled his eyes and turned to leave the room.

"Don't let him aggravate you to death, Clara," He called back over his shoulder and he exited the room, shutting the heavy door behind him.

"Aaaaand _scene_ ," Crowley snapped his fingers, and smirked weakly. Clara folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips as she surveyed the demon. He was definitely looking worse for wear, and still seemed to be recovering from his ordeal.

"Don't think that this means I'm on your side or anything," She stated firmly, looking him in the eye. "I still think you're a bad person."

"Who are you trying to convince, darling?" Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Little old me, or yourself?"

"Don't play mind games with me, Crowley," Clara snapped, hating that he was highlighting the doubts she was already having in her mind. "I know what you're capable of. I know what kind of things you've probably done."

"Calm down, Sherlock Holmes. You know what I've done? Have you been stalking me? I wouldn't blame you, but I'm afraid I may have to file a lawsuit."

"You probably go around killing people for fun," Clara narrowed her eyes challengingly.

"I never!" Crowley gasped in mock horror. His face quickly morphed into one of amusement. "Well, not _just_ for fun. Depends on my mood."

Clara shook her head with a frown. She walked to stand in front of the demon and sighed heavily.

"Killing innocent people is wrong, Crowley."

The demon shrugged.

"It's a grey area."

"How do you figure?"

"What is innocent these days, anyway?" Crowley mused, the look in his eyes challenging her.

Clara sighed, stepping closer to Crowley and resting a hand on the arm of the chair. She refused to let him see that she was intimidated. She had to be strong now, for everyone's sakes. She noticed that he was still clutching his side and grimaced apologetically.

"How's your side?" She inquired gently, biting her lip. She couldn't shake the guilt that she felt even though she knew it hadn't been her fault.

"I'm fine," Crowley grumbled, not meeting her eyes as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I can handle it."

"I'm sorry," She whispered softly, reaching her hand out to him but quickly thinking better of it and letting it drop to her side once more.

"For what?" Crowley deadpanned. "It's not your fault."

"I know but…" Clara trailed off uncertainly.

"But you _don't_ know," Crowley finally looked up to meet her eyes, his stare blank, a contrast to his usual mischievous demeanour. "Does it ever bother you, Clara, that your life doesn't make any sense? Whose side are you on?"

"I'm not on anyone's side," She held his gaze fiercely. "I don't have to be. I just want to help, I just want to make this situation better."

Crowley blinked slowly and raised his eyebrows again, dropping his gaze from hers as he looked at the ground.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a very strange individual, Clara?"

"Is this you trying to flirt with me again?"

Crowley chuckled and Clara grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment at having made him smile as he trained his eyes on her again. He was examining her again, as if deducing every tiny little detail about her. Clara shifted from one foot to the other while still meeting his gaze.

"Most people would run away and hide," Crowley murmured, and Clara could've sworn he almost looked impressed.

"Well I'm not frightened," She responded challengingly, sounding more confident than she felt.

"Maybe you should be."

The demons words didn't appeared to have been a threat, but they still made Clara wonder for a split second if this was such a good idea. She swallowed her fears fiercely and pushed her doubts away. She could do this. She could help Crowley whilst helping the Doctor and herself.

"Crowley, you need to tell me what you know."

Clara was well aware that this tactic probably wasn't going to work, but she decided to just come out with it and see what happened anyway. As expected, Crowley simply laughed in her face.

"I don't think so, hotshot," He sneered with a shake of his head, leaning back to look at her. He adapted a sarcastic tone, his expression smug. "What are you gunna do? Force feed me holy water?"

"No, but the Doctor might," Clara narrowed her eyes at him, aching to make him understand that she was trying to help him. She wished he would just play along. "I'm here to help you, Crowley. Because until you do something that I don't agree with, I'm not going to hate you. Much as I might want to."

"You mean until I plan my great escape and rid myself of these chains?"

"Whatever," Clara scoffed, feeling irritated at Crowley's refusal to do what she wanted. "You're _really_ stubborn, do you know that? It's bordering on stupidity at this point."

Crowley smirked at her words and linked his hands together, that dangerous glint back in his eyes.

"You want me to play along, I'll play along," His tone was light but it held a hint of menace. "But I play by _my_ rules, Clara Oswald. _Let the games begin_."

"Right," Clara clicked her fingers and spun around, striding over to the table and picking up the bottle containing the remains of the holy water. Crowley followed her every move with narrowed eyes as she turned to face him again. She held out the bottle and tipped it upside down defiantly, allowing the contents to spill onto the ground. Crowley's eyebrows shot up at her gesture.

"Enough of that," She tossed the empty bottle to the side and dusted her hands off. "It's time to talk."

"Clara, wait."

Clara was surprised by how serious Crowley's tone suddenly was, and snapped out of her thoughts to look at him. The demon was staring at her intensely again, and Clara was left feeling out of her depth.

"You don't have to do this," Crowley murmured softly, his tone holding no hint of malice or threat. Clara shook her head quickly and walked towards him.

"What, and stand by and let you get tortured instead? I don't think so."

"I don't need your help."

"You don't get a vote."

Crowley frowned, a turmoil of emotions in his eyes.

"Then why?" He held out his hands in an almost hopeless gesture. "Why are you doing this? No doubt you've had it drilled into your skull that I'm the root of all evil and deserve to be killed."

"Yeah, well, I'm the boss here," Clara spluttered defensively, trying to ignore the impact the demon's words were having on her. "I choose my own opinion of people, I don't go by the handbook. I don't just unknowingly think what other people tell me to think."

"I'm going to choose to refrain from making a snarky reference to your control freak tendencies."

"Wise choice, demon."

Crowley snorted and surveyed her with a smirk.

"So, sweet little Clara wants to know all about the Book of the Damned, is that correct?"

"That's what the Doctor wants to find out about?" Clara exhaled slowly and folded her arms.

"You catch on fast."

"Book of the Damned…" Clara murmured to herself, tapping her foot idly. "Sounds a bit dramatic, doesn't it? I've never even heard of it."

"You're much better off. That book is dangerous," Crowley continued carefully.

"What's wrong with a little danger?"

Crowley chuckled again and grinned at Clara.

"I like your style."

Clara gave him a smirk of her own and came closer, leaning on his chair again. She cocked her head to the side, suddenly more intrigued by this demon than ever. She was beginning to feel less terrified and more interested.

"And I suppose you know all about this Book of the Damned?" She questioned him with a raised eyebrow. Crowley's smile widened brightly and he winked.

"Darling, I'm King of the Damned."

 **And I'll leave it there!**

 **What do you think, was it any good? I hope you're enjoying the sass, even though the story is probably pretty bad lololol.**

 **QUESTION TIME!**

 **Question of the day, cause I'm curious about this one: Do you believe in ghosts?**

 **I mean, I guess we've all thought about it, and when you watch a lot of Supernatural you're bound to think about it at some point. I think I do, they probably are real in my opinion.**

 **Spooooookyyyyyy :O**

 **So anyway, leave a review for lil old me? ;)**

 **Until next time, my fandom friends!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey friends it's me again! So I hate to say this but this might be the last chapter I can post for about two weeks**

 **I'm going on holiday and won't be able to have access to my laptop and won't have the time, which I'm pretty sad about even though I'm excited for the holiday, cause I'm really enjoying writing this story!**

 **In this chapter there's a bit of 'Quid Pro Quo', a phrase I've heard a few times, I think one of the places I heard it was silent of the lambs. Great movie. Clever phrase. Oh and for Clara's age, I just used Jenna's age, cause I'm not sure what age she's meant to be.**

 **So here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it**

* * *

Clara walked the now familiar path down to the intimidating room where Crowley was still being held hostage, wracking her brain for new ways to try to encourage the demon to spill what he knew.

She had been up and down here for a few days now, spending most of her time in the secluded dungeon but to no avail. She still hadn't managed to coax much useful information out of the stubborn man, and she was beginning to feel hopeless. The Tardis' form was deteriorating every day, and there was still nothing they could do to stop it. So far all she had been informed was that the Book of the Damned contained knowledge of some of the world's most dangerous curses, but Crowley seemed to enjoy watching her get frustrated at his unwillingness to cooperate and so refused to say much else.

Mostly, all she gained from him were witty comebacks and snarky sarcasm, and more often than not they ended up in a battle of cutting words where neither would let the other win. Crowley liked games, particularly mind games, and today Clara was determined to get more than just empty threats from the smirking demon.

"Hey Crowley."

She slipped into the room quietly, shutting the unnecessarily heavy door behind her without too much hassle. She had done it so often at this point she could almost swear that she was building up the muscle for it.

"'Morning, sunshine."

Crowley smiled brightly at her, though his eyes remained cold. He did that a lot, she noticed. He appeared calculating, as if he still didn't trust her. She scoffed inwardly. She should be the one not trusting _him._ The suspicious glare in his eyes only seemed to fade when they were talking naturally, as if for a moment they both forgot where they were and what their current situation was. It shocked Clara to realise that sometimes she really did forget why she was there. There was something about Crowley that caused her to do that, to forget where she was, what she was supposed to be doing. She blinked rapidly, snapping herself out of her reverie.

"So, I'd ask how you are but I'm pretty sure you'd give me a sarcastic answer," Clara offered a small smile as Crowley shuffled in his chair, the chains rattling and echoing throughout the room as he did so.

"You know how I feel about stupid questions," He replied sweetly, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the circular room.

"Right, yeah, no stupid questions," Clara skipped over and plonked herself down in front of him, sitting on the floor with her chin resting on her knees. She peered up at him and smiled at his bemused expression. "I remembered that. So I thought I'd ask some clever ones. Can you help us fix- _Cure_ the Tardis?"

"Can and will are two very different things, darling," Crowley quipped back quickly, though he seemed to be interested in what she had to say. "You're jumping the gun. Try again."

"Alright," Clara frowned and hesitated, biting her lip softly as she thought. After a moment she smiled to herself slightly and addressed him again. "Do you know what's wrong with the Tardis?"

"Yes, in fact I do," Crowley's mouth curved effortlessly into a smirk. "I know _all_ about it. Tricky little curse, it is. Would you like to know more?"

"Thought you didn't like stupid questions?" Clara grinned cheekily, laughing when Crowley chuckled in response. "You know I want to know more."

"Quid pro quo."

"Excuse me?"

"Quid pro quo," Crowley repeated with a smirk. "Old Latin phrase. Swapping information for other information. Sounds delightful, doesn't it?"

"Okay, I'll bite," Clara replied slowly, considering her options. She didn't want to give away any useful information to a demon, but at the same time she felt as if she had no other choice. Crowley was finally playing along. And like he had warned, he was playing by his own rules. "But, here's the thing. You're a demon, you're hundreds of years old. I'm a 29 year old schoolteacher from the planet Earth. What could I possibly know that you don't?"

"I thought we agreed to negotiate on the stupid questions thing," Crowley rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh. "Clara, what do I know about you other than the fact that you're almost idiotically brave and you're a control freak?"

"I told you before I'm not a-"

"Yes, yes point taken moving on," Crowley grimaced theatrically. "Nothing, Clara. I know next to nothing about you and you're life."

"Why would you want to know about my life?" Clara's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She hadn't expected a demon to concern himself with such trivial things. Crowley shrugged, uncaring.

"You're an intriguing individual."

"Might I ask how exactly you came to that conclusion?"

"Look at you right now," Crowley smirked in amusement. "Look where you're sitting. What kind of human is idiotic enough to sit in front of a demon and talk to them voluntarily?"

"… Me."

"Aaaaaaand we have a winner," Crowley spread his hands out in a grand gesture, his grin widening. Clara fought back a smile.

"Still don't see why you're bothered."

"Why not?" Crowley counteracted with a raised brow. "Wouldn't you like to know about me?"

"Not really. I dread to think."

"You serious? I'm a hell of a guy," Crowley grinned, and Clara couldn't contain her laughter as she saw that the smile finally reached his eyes.

"How long have you been waiting to use that one?" She chuckled, shaking her head.

"Just a couple of centuries."

"Fine, fine, let's do it," Clara rolled her eyes, the ghost of a smile still present on her lips. "But I'm first."

"Yes boss."

"What's this curse all about then?"

"Nicely worded," Crowley teased, flexing his fingers and leaning back. "It's a very old one. Must have been cast by quite a powerful witch. It's nameless, and rarely used. It's normally used on people, but in this case, it's almost as if this… _Ship_ , has been possessed. And it's not going away, trust me."

"How'd you know so much about this?"

"Ah ah ah," Crowley waved his finger at her. "My go. Stop cheating. Why are you here?"

"I told you, I'm-"

"No, not _here_ here," Crowley frowned. "I mean here, in this entire place. With the Doctor. What are you to him?"

"A friend. I travel with him," Clara replied as simply as possible, reluctant to give too much away. "My turn."

"Fair enough."

"How do you know so much about curses and witches?"

"My mother was a witch."

"Seriously?" Clara gaped at Crowley's nonplussed expression, the demon acting as if he'd said the most casual thing in the world.

"Why do you do it?" The demon ignored her exclamation and continued on with the game.

"Do what?"

"Travel with him. He's not human."

"Neither are you and I'm still talking to you."

"That's different," Crowley grumbled. "Why?"

"Because…" She paused for a moment to consider her answer. Just this once, she wanted to answer right, to answer completely and honestly. She finally looked back up at Crowley's expectant expression. "Because I see wonders. I experience different planets, different times… It's… Beautiful."

Crowley hesitated, his eyebrows drawn together as he considered her answer. He nodded slowly.

"It'll end up destroying this entire place."

"What?" Clara spluttered, her eyes bulging wide.

"In answer to what I assume was going to be your next question," Crowley grimaced humourlessly. "If nothing is done, the curse will grow in strength and end up destroying this whole place. Us included."

"God," Clara breathed, ignoring Crowley's face in response to her choice of word. "We're all gunna die. How the hell do we stop it?"

"Unless you've got an experienced witch who can do the counter spell correctly hidden away somewhere in this torturous dump of yours, we don't," Crowley replied flatly. "That, and the Book of the Damned itself."

"Then we'll just have to go get it!" Clara exclaimed, scrambling to her feet. "Where is it?!"

"I could get it for you," Crowley's mouth twisted into a slow smile. "But, ahem…"

He tugged at the collar around his neck and raised his eyebrows. Clara shook her head vigorously.

"No way, no chance," She snapped quickly. "Can't trust you."

"Your loss then," Crowley pouted and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms with a nonchalant shrug. "I've already died once, I don't mind doing it again."

"How long do we have?" Clara exhaled in a huff, clenching her fists nervously. Crowley shrugged again.

"Looks like the curse is fairly well established," He was fighting a smirk, Clara could tell. He really didn't care. "Could be sooner rather than later. And chances are, even if you _do_ find the Book of the Damned, you're not going to be able to convince any witches to do the dirty work for you. This curse fights back. Selfish creatures won't stick their own necks out for you."

"Then what do we do?" Clara began pacing hopelessly.

"We're doomed."

"Crowley!"

" _Fine_ , there might be another way," Crowley sighed exasperatedly. Clara felt her heart jump for a moment at the possibility of a shred of hope and rushed over.

"Speak," She ordered, grabbing his hand earnestly. Crowley looked surprised for a moment, unsure how to react, but gathered himself quickly.

"This curse aims to destroy, slowly but surely," Crowley elaborated slowly. "It knows where here. It's almost like it's… Alive, it can sense us. It wants to destroy us too. Chances are, it's not going to hit the self-destruct button until it's sure it's going to take us down with it."

"So…" Clara mulled it over in her mind. "If we get out…"

"It will slow down the course of the curse, yes," Crowley nodded. "Won't stop it though. But it'll give us some time to find a more permanent solution. I could go make a few deals, see if I can figure something out. But we're not doing any good in here."

"There's just one problem," Clara's face fell as she released Crowley's hand. "We let you go, you're not coming back to help us. You might say you are, but you're not."

Crowley chuckled, shaking his head slowly.

"You're good."

"But-"

"You wanted information, I gave you information," Crowley glared at her. "I kept up my side of the bargain, I told you what you need to know. I never agreed to help. Hell, I didn't even agree to this!"

"I know, I know!" Clara flapped her hands about in frustration, feeling tears of anger prick her eyes. "I just- God, I'm in this now, I'm involved now, I have to help fix it. I just want to fix it."

She flopped down on the ground beside Crowley, leaning her back against the chair.

"We- We still have time, right?"

"Yeah, there's still time."

"Then I have some time to think and- And to just sort things out in my head."

They couldn't do this without Crowley, she knew it, Crowley knew it, the Doctor would know it once she told him everything. But there was no way the demon would help them save the Tardis, she was fully aware of that. They could all get out of this alive, but fixing the Tardis seemed nearly impossible. She felt at a complete loss. Clara wasn't sure how long they sat there in silence until she felt so emotionally drained that she found herself suddenly leaning to the side of her own accord. She nudged Crowley knee and the demon jumped at the unexpected contact. Clara jumped in turn with a gasp and sat upright again, scolding herself at having nearly nodded off.

"Sorry," She murmured softly and craned her neck to peer up at Crowley. He merely grunted and tugged at his restraints as he did so often, shuffling helplessly in his seat.

"You okay?" She whispered, suddenly feeling unbearably guilty. Sure, she wasn't hurting him, but she wasn't helping him either. How could she expect help from him when she was giving nothing in return? She knew he was a demon, she knew he could kill her in a heartbeat but her own heart ached painfully at how vulnerable Crowley looked in that moment.

"Fine," He mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "Just been stuck in these chains too long."

It hurt Clara to realise that his response wasn't cutting or sarcastic, it was just really, brutally honest.

"Crowley…"

"Mind if I take a break from all this lovely interrogation to have a little massacre?"

Clara pursed her lips and sighed.

"I'm going to say no."

"Why not?" Crowley opened his eyes with the faintest hint of a tired smile. "It's very therapeutic."

"For you maybe," Clara quipped back, raising an eyebrow. "You know, if I could, I'd put you in detention."

"Are you sure I'm not already there?" Crowley gave a small huff of a laugh. "With all the questions I'm being asked it feels like I'm sitting a bloody exam."

Clara chuckled and closed her eyes for a moment, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly tired. Fighting the exhaustion, she leaned up to face Crowley better and observed him carefully, eyes narrowed. She cocked her head to the side, examining his face, his eyes… Those eyes, those dangerous eyes that could suck you in and make you forget who you are. Those eyes that could see deep into your soul and trap you there indefinitely.

"Clara?"

Clara blinked at the soft velvet tone of voice and snapped back to the present.

"Um," She mumbled, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "Just checking."

"May I ask _what_ you were checking?"

"If you'd ever actually hurt me," Clara smiled slowly as if a realisation had just dawned on her. "I don't think you would."

"That's a dangerous way of thinking," Crowley replied just as softly, but with a hint of menace in his tone. A warning. "Could get you in a lot of trouble."

Clara didn't know what it was that came over her, but she suddenly felt a rush of courage flow though her veins. She reached out and took Crowley's hand in both of her smaller ones. The demon looked down at their intertwined fingers with wide eyes, confusion brewing in his gaze. Clara stroked a thumb over the back of Crowley's hand gently and the demon inhaled sharply.

"Why-"

"I'm not worried about trouble," Clara breathed, unwilling to let him finish his question for the simple reason that she had no bloody idea how to answer it. "And I'm not worried about you hurting me."

Crowley narrowed his eyes slightly at her but his gaze seemed more testing than menacing.

"Let me out of these chains and we'll see what I can do," He murmured darkly, but Clara could tell it wasn't a threat. Not anymore. He was tired, and so was she.

"I don't want you in these chains any more than you do, Crowley," She admitted almost fearfully, letting her fingers roam from his palm to his wrist and examining the shiny metal that encased him there. What the hell was she doing? She wasn't sure, and she didn't care. She felt tears spring to her eyes but she refused to let them fall, refused to allow Crowley to see her as weak. "I don't even know how to get them off," She whispered, hating how helpless and weak she sounded. Maybe the sonic screwdriver would do the job… _No._ She fought the urge to shake her head in defiance. She couldn't afford to think like that. Crowley was still a demon, she couldn't release him without the Doctor knowing. Even if by chance he did spare her, he would surely kill the Doctor, and more than likely many more people.

"You might not have a soul, but I think maybe you have a heart," Clara mumbled, then frowned in confusion. "Or maybe the other way 'round. I don't really know."

She twisted the handcuff slightly to see if there was some sort of catch on it, but Crowley's free hand shot out and grabbed her hand firmly but surprisingly gently. She gasped, her heart missing a beat for some reason as Crowley looked at her, still holding her hand in his.

"Don't," He murmured quietly. "Don't bother."

He held Clara's hand for a moment longer and then released it slowly, as if surprised by what he had just done. Clara released his other hand in turn, albeit a bit reluctantly, and slid down to rest her back against the chair again. She closed her eyes again, so drained that she found herself unwilling to continue to fight for consciousness. She just wanted to rest, to sleep for a few hours. Or a few days, that would be nice.

She felt her head lolling to the side but her mind was suddenly foggy with fatigue and she found herself not caring in the slightest when her head came to a comfortable rest against the side of Crowley's knee. She noticed him stiffen slightly, but was too tired to care.

"C- Clara?"

"You wouldn't though, would you?" She found herself mumbling, trying to fight for one more second before she slipped into sleep. She fought off a yawn, too tired even for that simple action as she continued to finish her sentence. "… Hurt me?"

She was nearly gone now, and she welcomed sleep with open arms, a chance to get away from all her worries and troubles for a few hours at least. She felt herself fading away just in time to hear Crowley's reply.

"No. I don't think I would."

* * *

 **I'm afraid that's all for a while folks! I really hope the characters are actually in character by the way, I never thought to ask but that's a big thing that I try to get right :O**

 **So, unfortunately, no updates for about two weeks unless there's some miracle**

 **Thank you all so much for the reviews, they mean so much to me!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Guess who's back, back agaaaiiiiinn! I'm just back from holiday and I CAN'T FREAKING WAIT TO CONTINUE WRITING THIS STORY IT'S JUST SO FUN!**

 **So I'm sorry for the wait but don't worry, updates will be more frequent now that I'm back from holiday** **Hope you enjoy this chapter guys! Violá**

* * *

Clara awoke with a start and jumped, momentarily forgetting where she was. She sat up straighter, her currently dishevelled hair falling in front of her face as she stretched to ease the painful crick in her neck. She blinked sleepily, looking down at herself and realising she was still in the same checked shirt and dark skirt she had been in yesterday. _Oh God._

She almost gasped when she looked up to see Crowley smirking down at her, seemingly amused by her disorientated state.

"What just happened?" She blurted out unthinkingly, stumbling unsteadily to her feet and brushing herself down.

"I think we just had a sleepover," Crowley grinned, more amused than ever at Clara's bemused expression as she gaped at him in shock. She felt her cheeks flush and struggled hastily to tame her messy hair into something more presentable. She took a shaky breath.

"Jesus."

"Crowley, actually."

She shook her head vigorously and inhaled deeply before meeting Crowley's gaze, trying to feign nonchalance. She pursed her lips in a thin line, cursing her cheeks for reddening so obviously and silently willing them to return to their natural pallor. For God's sake, why did she have to go and practically fall asleep on top of a bloody demon?

"I fell asleep?" She folded her arms defensively and shifted from foot to foot almost nervously, hyper aware that Crowley's eyes were following her every move closely.

"Yes," Crowley raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realise I was so boring."

Clara allowed a slight chuckle to escape her lips, absentmindedly pacing the room. She made sure to avoid eye contact with the demon for fear that her cheeks would flush red hot again.

"Did you fall asleep too then?"

One glance at the expression on Crowley's face and Clara realised her mistake. Resisting the urge to face palm dramatically, she rolled her eyes and chuckled darkly.

"Oh that's right. Demon," She clicked her fingers with a smirk. "Slips my mind sometimes."

"Because I'm such a pleasant guy?" Crowley smiled sweetly, his eyes mocking.

"Oh yeah, such a charmer," Clara could almost feel the sarcasm drip from her tone as Crowley grinned at her widely. "Sleeping's not your thing then? You're really missing out."

Crowley shrugged.

"It's unnecessary. Why waste my time?"

"So you're bad enough to run Hell, but you're too good for sleep?" Clara shook her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Wow. What a life."

"There's a lot more to being a demon than you'd think."

"So help me understand," Clara raised her eyebrows and took a tentative step forward. "Is being a demon what you are or is it just your fancy profession?"

Crowley cocked his head to the side and Clara found herself pleased that he actually appeared interested in her question. She supposed most humans wouldn't be sitting around conversing with a demon so casually, but then again, she couldn't really be classed as most humans due to all she had seen and experienced.

Bit of both really," The demon replied, his tone slightly guarded. He leaned back in his chair and let his gaze flicker to the top corner of the room thoughtfully. "My soul did a stint in Hell and became demonised, you know the drill. A demon is what I am. But I had to make some deals here and there to get to where I am now."

"You had to work to get to the top," Clara nodded slowly and raised her eyebrows. "Understandable. Almost… Human."

Crowley grimaced.

"I ain't just a pretty face."

"So," Clara rolled her eyes at his comment, biting back a grin. "Deals? What's that about then?"

"It's a very simple procedure really," Crowley shifted in his chair, suddenly more alert, his gaze alight with interest. "You give me your soul, I give you whatever in return. Money, fame, you name it. Swap a soul for a wish. Now _that_ would make a good slogan."

"Sounds like a dodgy business to me," Clara frowned dubiously, not too keen on the idea of trading her soul for something as fickle as being famous or rich. "So what are you, like a deadly genie or an evil fairy godmother?"

"Beautifully put, Clara," Crowley gave her an unimpressed glare.

"As always," She quipped back, marvelling once more at how easily their conversations always seemed to flow. That fact should worry her, but she couldn't find it within herself to care too much. Instead, another question popped to mind. "So what kind of person would jeopardise their soul for something like that?"

Crowley's eyes widened, feigning innocence but his mischievous smirk gave him away.

"Well, let's just say when people are checking in the millions they just won, most of them shouldn't all be thanking God. Anyone can be persuaded if you give them just a little push."

"Insane," Clara shook her head in disbelief. "Completely barking mad."

"If you say so," Crowley shrugged, his demeanour casual. Clara quirked an eyebrow at him in warning.

"Well my soul's not up for negotiation, demon boy. Just so you know where we stand."

A hint of a sinister smirk had just begun to slip into place on Crowley's face when the Tardis rumbled forebodingly. Clara shrieked at the unexpected interruption, tumbling to the floor as the ground shook violently. Crowley looked down at her and grinned widely.

"What can I say, women just fall at my feet."

"Shut up you," Clara snapped with a gasp, struggling to her feet and attempting to steady herself as the Doctor burst through the door. Clara took in his dishevelled appearance and the look of wild panic in his eyes.

"Doctor, what's happening?!" She yelped, stumbling over to the Time Lord as quickly as the unsteady floor would allow.

"Clara," The Doctor's eyes finally focused on her as he grasped both her arms and looked at her in earnest. "Clara, Clara, Clara. Finally. Are you alright?"

"I-"

"This is bad, very bad," The Doctor released her and began pacing, though he stopped and whirled around to face her again when he realised he couldn't walk in a straight line. His eyebrows were drawn together tightly in concern. "Took me absolutely ages to find you. The Tardis moved some corridors here, took away a room or two there. But I've found you now and that's good," He paused to take a deep breath. "Only it's not. It's not good at all."

"What's going on, Doctor," Clara gasped, fear flooding her system as he breath caught in her throat. She froze as she heard a chilling chuckle to her left and turned to see Crowley looking more than amused at their distress. He spread his hands out in a chastising gesture.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" He questioned smugly.

"Figured what out?!" Clara yelled, quickly becoming frustrated that she had no control over this situation. "Doctor, what is he talking about?!"

"The Tardis it's…" The Doctor hesitated as the ship trembled again. "It's filling up with gas. Extremely toxic gas. We have about ten minutes before-"

"Before we're on the highway to Hell or the stairway to Heaven," Crowley crowed delightedly, not caring in the slightest about the imminent danger they were currently in. "Game over."

"Game bloody over?!" Clara yelled, eyes wide as dread washed over her.

"Language-"

"Oh shut up, Doctor!" She didn't bother trying to keep her voice down anymore if this was the last time she would be able to use it, she might as well be heard. "What are we going to do?"

"I- I don't know," The Doctor gritted his teeth together and tugged at his hair agitatedly. "I'm sorry, Clara, I'm sorry for getting you involved-"

Crowley cleared his throat loudly and the two whipped around to look at him expectantly. The demon still kept that infuriating smirk plastered onto his face. He raised his hand.

"Before we get into the soppy 'goodbye's' and 'I love you's', may I make a suggestion?"

"No-"

"Go ahead," Clara urged quickly, interrupting the Doctor who looked at her in surprise. She took a step forward and looked at Crowley earnestly. "Just make it good."

Crowley coughed lightly and shook the shackles on his hands suggestively with a raised brow.

"No," The Doctor shook his head as he realised what Crowley was on the verge of suggesting. "No, no, no. Don't even say it."

"Wasn't talking to _you_ , E.T.," Crowley sneered, tilting his head to address Clara instead. "Clara, you release me and I can zap us all out of here Star Trek style. One second is all it will take, all I'm asking for in return-"

"Is your freedom," Clara cooped on immediately, mulling the idea over in her head for a moment. Every fibre in her body was telling her that this was a very, _very_ , bad idea, and it went against every basic instinct she had to trust him. But what other choice did they have? She turned to the Doctor sharply.

"Let him go," She ordered quietly but firmly.

"Clara-"

"Do it, Doctor!" She was beginning to lose her patience, she didn't want to lose her and her best friend's lives as well.

"Clara, I can't, even if I wanted to," The Time Lord yelled in agitation. "The Tardis locked my sonic screwdriver in a safe! Nothing I can do will open it at this stage, not in time anyway, and that's the only thing I have that will release him from those chains."

"Oh God," Clara muttered, resisting the urge to sink to the ground in despair. "We're all going to die."

"Well that's it then, plan A tanked," Crowley sighed in exasperation. He glared at the Doctor. "What's plan B then, eh? In fact, why don't we try plan C for Catastrophic Demise?"

"You're not helping this situation," The Doctor snarled, clenching his fists in frustration.

"Neither are you, by the looks of it," Crowley replied sharply, narrowing his dark eyes at the Time Lord. "Typical isn't it, Doc? People in your general vicinity don't usually tend to have much in the way of a lifespan."

The Doctor scowled, his expression murderous. He turned to Clara.

"Can I kill him?"

"No, he's our only chance of getting out of here alive," Clara replied sternly. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath to steady herself. "Crowley, please, is there anything else we can do?"

Crowley frowned for a second, before something lit up in his eyes. He snapped his fingers abruptly.

"I'm going to need a piece of paper and a pen," He demanded sharply. His eyes widened in impatience when no one made a move. " _Now_!"

The Doctor hesitated before grabbing a crumpled piece of paper from a derelict table nearby and Clara fumbled around in her pockets, her heart skipping a beat in joy as her fingers clasped around a pen.

With the two objects in hand, Crowley immediately began to scribble a quick sketch of something which strongly resembled the type of symbols Clara had been seeing a lot of recently. Crowley tossed the pen to the side where it clattered to the ground and thrust the paper at Clara.

"Grab some of that spray paint from over there and draw this anywhere inside this circle," He ordered hastily. Clara nodded quickly and shot the Doctor a grateful smile as he tossed the can of paint to her.

She threw herself down on the ground and shook the can, examining the picture for a brief moment before attempting to recreate it. She couldn't believe she was blindly trusting this demon and taking his orders.

"What's the point of this exactly?" The Doctor questioned, and Clara detected a hint of fascination in his tone.

"It will stop me from being sent down to Hell when you exorcise me."

Clara's head shot up.

"When we _what_?!"

"It's the only way you're going to get me out of these bloody nuisances," Crowley growled as he shook the handcuffs again. "You exorcise me, I'll have a little scout around, hunt down this magic screwdriver and save the day. Just call me Superman."

Clara stood up, eyeing the symbol she had just painted suspiciously. She had never been that exceptional at art, but she figured it would pass. She frowned at Crowley.

"You're saying you can break into that safe, bring the sonic screwdriver back here, hop back into your body and let us unchain you so we can all make it out of here alive?"

"Correct. What can I say, miracles don't just happen in the Bible."

"And you can manage all this without arms or legs?" Clara raised an eyebrow dubiously. "You're just gunna leave your body behind like you're taking off a pair of socks?"

"Once again, beautifully put, darling."

"Not to put a downer on things," The Doctor piped up, his eyebrows drawn. "But I'm seeing a lot of flaws in this plan of yours."

"If you have any better ideas, by all means don't be shy," Crowley quipped back, the expression on his face indicating that he was sure his idea was the only plausible one.

"Look, the Doctor's right," Clara found herself saying, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. "We can't trust you. You could just leave us, or even kill us. Just putting that out there."

Crowley rolled his shoulder back lazily and threw his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Darling, I could chew you up and spit you out quicker than you can say Hells Bells but I'm not going to. A deal is a deal. I help you, you give me my freedom. I keep my promises."

"Well excuse me if I don't take your word for it," The Doctor replied wearily, beginning to pace the room once more. "It's not as if we're signing on the dotted line here, we have no proof that you won't just do away with us once you're free."

"By all means, fill out a bloody document if you want but time's a wastin'!" Crowley yelled, his lack of patience getting the better of him. He took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. "Honestly, I've never met two people so determined to die."

"Can't trust you," Clara closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a headache coming on. "You're a demon. A monster."

"Love it when you talk dirty," Crowley smirked.

"Stop flirting you two," The Doctor grunted. "We don't have time for this, we need to make a decision."

Clara nodded, the motion causing her head to spin.

"Why should we trust you?" She asked breathlessly, finding the air was becoming gradually thicker. Crowley's eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, sweet mother of sin, don't," He scoffed. "Don't trust anyone. _Ever._ But like I said, I keep my deals once I make them. Pinky promise."

"I…" Clara bit her lips and shot the Doctor a look. She could tell he was considering it, however much he didn't want to. Crowley sighed.

"Fine. I promise. I _swear,_ " He looked at Clara earnestly. "I swear on my own soul."

Clara managed a weak laugh.

"Crowley, you don't have a soul."

"That's beside the point."

Clara turned to face the Doctor, pleading with him using her eyes.

"Doctor, I think we should do this."

"I know, I just-" The Doctor inhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "I just don't understand why he would help us."

"Trust me, Doc, helping you is not on my bucket list," Crowley snapped, his eyes narrowing threateningly. "In fact, I'd rather not even be within spitting distance of you. Except for at your funeral, at which I will cheer and celebrate with a glass of strong brandy."

"I've half a mind to toss you into a volcano-"

"Stop bickering you two, please!" Clara yelped, shaking her head in exasperation. "Crowley, fine. It's a deal."

"But-"

" _End of,_ Doctor!" She cut him off and made a zipping motion across her lips. If they were going to do this, they had to do it now. She turned to Crowley. "Just… Behave, alright? I mean it. Cross me and you'll be taking holy water shots."

"You've got a sharp tongue on you," Crowley smiled slowly. "It suits you."

"Such a flirt," Clara found herself smirking before she could stop herself. Crap. _Crap._ She _had_ to stop accidentally flirting with the King of Hell.

Crowley's grin widened, his eyes glinting with mirth. Clara stiffened.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," The cheeky grin remained on Crowley's face. "You're the one doing the talking, you little check-wrapped nightmare."

Clara looked down at her checked shirt and glowered at his choice of words.

"I hate you, just remember that," She raised her eyebrows sternly, unable to stop just the hint of a smile plying around her lips.

"Trust me, darling, no one hates me more than I do," Crowley replied, his voice light but holding a slightly dark undertone. Clara frowned slightly, wondering what exactly he meant by that. She made a mental note to ask him at a later date, if they even managed to survive this.

Clara picked up the dusty old book, feeling a shiver run down her spine as she opened it carefully.

"Clara," The Doctor's tone was gentle. "I can do this if you want."

"No," Clara replied softly. "No, it's alright. I can do this."

She looked at Crowley again quickly, suddenly feeling extremely nervous.

"I…" She paused, struggling to take a deep breath but finding that there wasn't enough air to take in. She gulped, knowing she would have to hurry. They didn't have much time. "What if something goes wrong? What if it doesn't work? The last time…"

"How about you get it right?" Crowley spoke through gritted teeth, his gaze deadly. Clara examined the serious expression on his face, no trace of laughter or joking left. He almost seemed… Nervous. The thought of Crowley being nervous about anything put Clara on edge. She froze for a moment and bit her lip as she made eye contact with Crowley, her breathing becoming uneven. She told herself it was just the toxic gas beginning to mingle with the air.

"Fine," She relented breathlessly, the toxic gas seeming to be affecting her more than the Doctor at this point. She guessed it was something to do with him owning two individual hearts.

"Hurry up then, we don't have all day," Crowley retorted. He inhaled deeply and breathed out deliberately. "Mmm, smell that toxic gas."

"Alright, alright," Clara mumbled, her fingers fumbling with the thin pages.

She dropped his gaze for a moment as she located the correct page of the book, then looked up at Crowley again as a sudden thought struck her.

"Will it hurt?" She whispered fearfully, unable to keep the slight tremor from seeping into her voice. Crowley seemed taken aback by her last minute question.

"Just let's get it over with, shall we?" He stated bluntly, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. Clara's trembling fingers found the words she was looking for, and she swallowed hard.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio," Clara struggled to keep focused on the words as her head began to swim. "Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…"

She gasped for breath, knowing that she was running out of time. She cast a quick glance at Crowley, who was clutching the armrests of the seat painfully tightly.

"Ergo omnis legio diabolica…" Clara struggled to breathe as Crowley began to squirm, choking on the same red smoke Clara had witnessed when she had attempted to exorcise him the first time. She really hoped she was pronouncing the words right. "… Adjuramus te… Cessa decipere humanas creaturas-"

She gasped and jumped back as the red smoke seemed to win its battle with Crowley, billowing from his open mouth up towards the ceiling where it began to swirl with an abundance of energy. Clara watched in awe as the smoke swirled higher, finally leaving Crowley's body behind, which slumped in its seat, eyes shut.

The smoke almost seemed to dance as it swam around the room in a manner of organised chaos, flitting past Clara as she stared at it in shock.

"Crowley?" She murmured, watching as the red smoke bombarded the door with such force that it flung it off its hinges, allowing Crowley to escape the room.

She looked at the Doctor, expecting that his expression of shock mirrored hers almost exactly.

She took a few quick shallow breaths. The toxic gas was working its way in here quickly, and all she could do was slump against the wall, hoping against hope that the King of Hell would keep up his side of the deal.

* * *

 **Damn, they made a deal with the devil.**

 **Fun chapter to write, one of my favourite's so far I think :D So excited to start writing the next one, but I think for now I must sleep. Or watch Netflix. Hmmm, decisions decisions.**

 **So there it is folks, hope you liked it!**

 **Run you clever boy, and remeMBER TO REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK YAY!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm posting chapter 7 already 'cause I just couldn't wait! Sorry if it's a bit shorter than most, but I just had to go with the flow of the story. Next one will be longer, I promise!**

 **I just want to say a HUGE thank you for these reviews guys, they make me smile so much** **I'm so glad people are enjoying this story, it really makes me so so happy!**

 **We all need a little something to get through the Doctor Who and Supernatural hiatuses y'know? So I will keep writing fanfiction til I collapse. YAY.**

 **Well ladies and gents, enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think of this ship!**

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The air was too thick, as if a deadly fog that could not be seen was seeping into the room, delicately curling itself around Clara's airways as she took ragged, shallow breaths. It was almost as if a pair of invisible hands were clasped tightly around her throat, threatening to choke her.

Struggling. She hated to admit it, but she was struggling.

Struggling to breathe, struggling to put her waning trust in Crowley, struggling to stagger her way over to the Doctor and clutch his arm tightly. In a fruitless search for comfort or simply an attempt to remain standing upright, she wasn't certain.

"What…" She steadied herself and took another quick, sharp breath, swaying slightly before she continued. "What's taking him so long? Shouldn't he be back? What if… What if-"

"No 'what ifs'," The Doctor grunted, his tone strained with the effort it took just to find some oxygen to take in. "Tedious phrase. Don't worry, we'll get out of this."

"Are you sure?" Clara panted heavily, tightening her slackening grip on his arm.

"No," The Doctor admitted, and Clara imagined his tone would have been apologetic had he been able to find the strength to make it so.

"Fair enough," She forced her voice to adopt a light-hearted tone, refusing to show how worried she really was. Crowley would come back, she knew he would.

Didn't she?

No, she had to stop lying to herself, she realised wearily. She really had no idea whatsoever what the demon may or may not choose to do. The King of Hell was as unpredictable as he was soulless. But she couldn't help letting that little spark of hope inside her ignite, let herself believe that she had seen something in his dark eyes that proved he wasn't just some monster.

"This is what you get," The Doctor began heavily, his words punctuated by sharp intakes of breath. "For working with a demon."

"Don't give up hope yet," Clara whispered, giving in to the temptation to close her heavy eyes just for a moment. "Just… Wait."

"Clara, I don't mean to alarm you but time is of the essence here-"

"Shhh!" Clara shushed him hurriedly, snapping open her eyes and raising her head to cast a quick glance around. "Did… Did you hear that?"

The Doctor perked up slightly, a perplexed expression fixed on his aged face.

"Hear what?"

Before Clara could answer, the corridor outside shuddered violently as if a large rapidly moving body of water was gushing through it, hitting the walls with force as it sped around each bend and corner. Not water though, Clara realised as a half-smile lit up her face. Smoke.

She turned to the Doctor, grin still fixed on her face.

"That," She replied, her tone filled with hope as the cloud of swirling red smoke finally pushed through the door, speeding into the room powerfully. Clara let out a small laugh of joy. " _Him_."

Clara had never been so happy to see a pile of moving mist so much in her entire life. Crowley's demonised form spun like a tornado, rising towards the ceiling and racing over the Doctor's head. A small object fell from the smoke, and the Doctor's hands shot out to catch it, a look of disbelief and awe etched onto his features. Clara watched, equally amazed as the ancient Time Lord smiled down at the sonic screwdriver in his grasp.

"Impossible," He breathed, his tone filled with wonder as he looked up at the red smoke which had made its way over to Crowley's motionless form.

"Not impossible," Clara grinned widely, feeling a sudden rush of happiness course through her despite their current sticky situation. "Just unlikely."

The smoke finally discovered what it was looking for and forced its way back into its vessel, the last thin wisps of mist finally disappearing into Crowley's mouth. The demon in question suddenly came to life as Clara watched, mouth agape. Crowley blinked and stretched his neck, flexing his fingers almost painfully.

"You did it," Clara whispered, her tone laced with astonishment.

"What did you expect?" Crowley scoffed, and Clara realised she had missed the velvet tone of his voice. She even missed the smug signature smirk that appeared on his lips as he spoke. "I'm a professional."

He paused and looked at them almost in disbelief as they simply stood and stared.

"Well come on then," He made a waving motion with his hands, impatience entering his voice. "We haven't got all day."

"Right," The Doctor grumbled, rushing forward as he brandished his sonic screwdriver in determination. Crowley's smirk grew as the metal collar around his neck came apart with a sharp click.

"Not that I don't want you to breathe in this toxic gas and suffocate to death," Crowley shrugged as the Doctor aimed the sonic at the shackles on his wrists, releasing him from the handcuffs. "There's a very special place in Hell reserved for you, Doc, of course. But you'll be surprised to learn that my freedom does means a teensy bit more to me than your painful demise."

"Consider yourself lucky I'm even agreeing to this," The Doctor hissed harshly, removing the last few restraints.

"Oh, I count my blessings every day," Crowley smirked again, his gaze flitting upwards to meet Clara's. He flexed his fingers and clenched and unclenched his fists, looking at his chain-free hands with something akin to happiness in his eyes.

The Doctor backed away, having finished his job, and Crowley rose to his feet slowly, almost as if he wasn't quite sure he would actually be able to move freely. He stood and took a step forward, his smirk growing and his eyes lighting up. Clara watched him intently, unable to deny that she was slightly in awe. This man, this demon, was now free. Anything could happen. But for once, she wasn't scared. She felt adrenaline course through her as Crowley dusted himself down.

"Now that's more like it," He sighed in contentment, stretching his neck. He pulled a quick grimace as he cast a disgusted glance down at his tattered, blood-stained attire. "You owe me a new suit."

He stepped up to the line of the devil's trap still etched onto the floor and cleared his throat suggestively, inclining his head towards it. A light bulb lit up inside Clara's head after a moment of bemusement and she rushed forward, scraping a segment of the dried spray paint off the floor and breaking the circle.

"Thanks, love," Crowley winked, stepping across the line and moving past her. "Now for the fun part."

"We're actually doing this," Clara breathed in astonishment, almost finding it hard to believe that their dangerous deal with the devil had actually paid off. She took another quick, shallow breath and ignored her light-headedness as she approached Crowley cautiously. "Are we actually doing this?"

She took in Crowley's eyes, his eys that were dark and deadly and she knew she shouldn't trust him. She knew that in that moment he could most likely snap her neck with one simple click of his fingers and feel no remorse. So why wasn't she frightened? Maybe this toxic gas really was going to her head.

Or maybe a tiny piece of her believed that there was more to the King of Hell that met the eye.

She wasn't sure which theory she'd rather believe.

"Yes, deal's still on, ladies and gents," Crowley stretched his arms out in a grand gesture. He took a step towards Clara, a half smile on his face. "Such a dull way to die for someone like you, Clara Oswald. You deserve better, surely."

Clara let out a weak laugh, immediately regretting the action as her breath caught in her throat uncomfortably and she struggled to breathe for a moment.

"The big bad King of Hell, saving my life," She rasped, swaying slightly. "How about that."

"All in a day's work," Crowley muttered, reaching a cautious hand out as if to steady her, but thinking better of it and keeping his distance.

Clara opened her mouth to speak, but found she just didn't have the energy anymore. Her legs threatened to give way as she struggled to breathe. She faintly heard the Doctor's voice call her name in concern, before she felt strong arms encircled her. Her legs had completely given way now, and she leaned all her weight against the person who had just prevented her from falling.

"Stay awake."

Crowley's gruff voice rumbled against her ear and she realised that the demon was the one holding her upright. That fact should make her want to run a mile, but instead she reached up a weary hand to clutch at his tattered suit jacket in an attempt to make sure he didn't let her go.

"How-" Clara choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. She struggled to raise her head enough to see Crowley's face in a weak attempt to stay awake as he had ordered. "How do we… Do this then?"

"My way," He replied curtly, his grip on Clara tightening. "Just please don't get sick. This suit has gone through enough."

"No promises," Clara replied weakly, suddenly nervous about how exactly he was going to 'zap' them out of her.

"Time to go, Doc," Crowley called cheerfully and Clara watched from her peripheral vision as the Doctor approached cautiously.

"If you betray us, I _will_ kill you," The Time Lord's tone was blunt and held a dark undertone. Clara wished she had to the strength to tell him to shut up.

"Just consider yourself lucky I'm not leaving you behind, Champ," Crowley's tone was light but Clara still managed to pick up the subtle hint of menace. Crowley grabbed a hold of the Doctor's arm roughly and Clara clutched his suit tighter, burying her face in his chest.

And then her stomach dropped.

Or maybe it had done the exact opposite. Maybe it had flipped right around and ended up inside her brain somewhere. That would surely explain why her head felt as if _it was about to bloody explode._

She felt as if she was falling and flying at the same time, her stomach churning as she failed to string a coherent though together successfully. A huge pressure wrapped around her from all sides, threatening to squeeze the life out of her, and the only thing keeping her from going insane was Crowley's solid form that she was pressed against so tightly, comforting her.

And then it was over.

And she was having a bloody hard time trying not to throw up on Crowley's suit.

But she could breathe again, and she gulped in the fresh air like she had been drowning and had just had her head lifted above the water. She gasped for breath, hardly noticing the Doctor staggering away from them to the side looking around himself in shock mingle with disbelief.

Clara couldn't quite seem to remove her vice-like grip on Crowley.

"That…" She panted, managing to look up at him though the action nearly caused her head to implode. "That was hardly first-class travel, was it?"

"You get used to it," Crowley smirked. "Better than suffocating to death in a dungeon, don't you think?"

Clara finally managed to unclench her shaking fingers from his jacket and release the demon from her grip. She took a shaky step back and Crowley watched her intently as if sure she would fall again.

"I'm fine," She assured him with a quick nod, immediately regretting the action as it brought a wash of sickening light-headedness over her. "I just…"

She looked up at Crowley then, the demon who had just saved her life, now standing free in front of her. He was free, but he had chosen to save her life rather than kill her. The man standing just a bit taller than her, just enough for her to have to crane her neck ever so slightly to look at him.

"You saved us," She murmured, disbelief seeping into her tone as she met his eyes. Crowley shrugged, an air of nonchalance around him.

"What can I say, I'm a very charitable person- _What the_ -"

Crowley let out an _"oomph"_ of surprise as Clara rushed forward as fast as her unsteady legs would carry her and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you," She smiled into his chest, hugging him so fiercely with no intention of letting go. Crowley squirmed slightly as if unsure how to respond.

"Um… You're… Welcome?" He choked out, and Clara was amused to find a shred of actual fear in his voice. She pulled back slightly just to look at him, still refusing to let go.

"Hug me back, you idiot!" She ordered, unable to wipe the beam off her face at Crowley's bemused expression.

"I- This wasn't part of the deal-"

"I'm not letting go until you hug me back," Clara responded firmly, pressing herself closer to him again and continuing to hug him tightly. A part of her found some delight in the fact that she was in control now, and Crowley had no idea what to do. "We can do this all night."

"Control freak," Crowley grumbled, slowly, stiffly raising his own arms to return her embrace.

"See," Clara closed her eyes with a smile. "Not so hard, is it?"

Crowley grunted in reply, and Clara felt a surge of accomplishment at having made the King of Hell speechless. She finally released him reluctantly, keeping a hold of both his arms as she looked into his eyes, his eyes that were swimming with confusion and wonder.

"I'm not afraid of monsters, Crowley," She whispered, a small smile on her face.

"Maybe you should be," He murmured in return, his face blank, holding no hint of a threat despite his words.

"Don't care," Clara shrugged, smirking ever so slightly. "I call the shots on what to fear and not fear. Control freak, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Crowley mirrored her smirk, biting back a chuckle.

"Thank you," Clara repeated her words from earlier softly as she let go of Crowley completely. "Thank you again."

Crowley simply nodded, and Clara guessed he wasn't quite used to being thanked. It made her mind drift once again to all the thing he had probably done that did not warrant gratitude of any kind. But right now, she didn't have to worry about that.

"Right, well," Crowley rolled his shoulders back nd looked from the Doctor to Clara. "I'm going to love you and leave you."

He looked to the Doctor with a sneer.

"I'd say it was a pleasure," He cocked his head to the side, his eyes unkind. "But it really wasn't."

"You're just going to leave?" Clara blurted out, unsure why she found the idea so unsettling. Maybe it was something to do with the fact that they were letting a dangerous demon loose on the unsuspecting innocents, or maybe it was even something to do with the fact that she really had no idea when she would ever see him again. The thought put her on edge for a reason she couldn't explain.

"Yes," Crowley waved his hand around a gesture implying that the fact should be obvious. "Deal's over. I now have nothing more to do with you two."

"And good riddance," The Doctor plastered a forced bright smile onto his face. Crowley scowled.

"But we don't even know where we are!" Clara spluttered, throwing her hands out. She turned to the Doctor quickly. "Do we?"

"Of course," The Doctor rolled his eyes, casting a quick glance around him. He hesitated uncertainly. "It's definitely Earth. 97% sure."

"Oh my God," Clara groaned. "Crowley, where are we?"

Crowley smirked, his eyes glinting brightly with mischief and Clara realised she was dreading his answer.

"Fitchburg, Wisconsin, if I'm correct," Crowley grinned widely, his confident demeanour back in place. "And I'm always right."

"Wait," Clara took a step forward, her eyebrows furrowing in disbelief mingled with outrage. "America? You dumped us in _America?!_ "

"Yes, I did," Crowley clapped his hands together. "And my job here is done."

"We have bloody British accents, wouldn't you have thought to drop us somewhere in bloody _Britain?!_ " Clara yelled, the fact that they had no money and no Tardis thoroughly hitting her.

Crowley paused for a moment, as if in thought.

"No, not really," He smiled brightly. "That thought never occurred to me at all."

"We are thousands of miles away from home with no way to get there!" Clara cried out, anger beginning to rise in her. Crowley's grin widened.

"Then you'll just have to swim."

He turned and began to walk in the opposite direction. Clara jogged after him a few steps, frustrated that he didn't even _care_.

"Oi!" She panted, stopping and letting her arms fall to her sides in defeat. "You're just going then? Just like that?"

She snapped her fingers weakly, not sure why she would've thought he might have stuck around. She knew he wouldn't of course, but now it had hit her that she was stuck thousands of miles from home with nothing but the clothes on her back, and she would probably never see Crowley again. The demon in question smirked, raised his hand, fingers poised to click.

"Just like that," He clicked his fingers and Clara blinked.

When she opened her eyes again, Crowley was gone.

* * *

 **And that's my chapter done, just like that *click***

 **So, was it any good? I honestly have no idea xD**

 **Now I'm gunna post this chapter, go get some food, and watch Netflix because that is my life.**

 **Review if you want!** **I'd appreciate the feedback :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hola Mishamigosssss! So I just made this video for Clara/Crowley (It's up on Youtube now if you wanna check it out) and it's like a fan-made trailer for a non-existent movie called The Girl Who Fell For Hell. Well, finishing that inspired me to update this story again :D So here you go, it's chapter 8! Let me know if you like it!**

* * *

"I am _angry_."

"Oh, dry your eyes and stop being so overly dramatic. You've always wanted to see America!"

"Yes, I would _love_ to see the Statue of Liberty and go shopping in New York but on my own terms and for your information I am _not_ crying, I'm just _bloody_ angry! Did I mention that?"

Clara Oswald inhaled deeply after delivering the whole sentence in one short breath and continued her brisk pacing, arms folded defiantly. The Doctor rolled his eyes at her scowl.

"I've just lost my ship," The Doctor snapped, tapping his foot impatiently. "Why are you upset? She never liked you anyway."

"Hey, we got on… Sometimes," Clara mashed her lips into a thin line, giving the Doctor an indignant glare. It was true, there was no love lost between herself and the Tardis, but that didn't change the anger she felt inside her. That didn't make the situation any better. "We're stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the clothes on our backs, thousands of miles from home-"

"Nothing but the clothes on our backs _and_ a sonic screwdriver," The Doctor retrieved the object from his pocket and waved it in the air with a thin smile. He looked at Clara expectantly, giving a disappointed frown when he found she merely looked at him with an unimpressed expression and a raised brow. He rummaged around in his pocket again, removing another strange metal tool. " _And_ an early prototype of a new sonic screwdriver I was hoping to adjust. Of course, it's not finished, all it can do is open doors and even then it doesn't always work-"

"Doctor, you're rambling," Clara sighed impatiently. "Scanning some random Americans with your sonic screwdriver and opening a few doors with a useless prototype isn't going to get us anywhere."

The Doctor sighed in retaliation.

"Fine, here," He threw the prototype screwdriver to Clara almost reluctantly. "You can have it. Happy now?"

"Happy-" Clara looked at the useless object in her hands and pocketed it with a roll of her eyes. There was no point arguing with the man. "I just can't believe this is happening."

"He's a demon, Clara, what did you expect?" Her friend chastised her impatiently, and his words stung her for some reaason. "We've just got to get on with this now, find the Tardis and find some other way to get a cure. We don't have the time or energy to waste hating the king of Hell at this current moment."

"The Tardis could've self-combusted by now, Doctor!" Clara yelled, immediately regretting her words at the flash of hurt in the Doctor's eyes. She hastily softened her expression. "Okay look, even if it's still in- sort of- working order, how the hell are we supposed to get to it? We have no idea where it is or how to find it, let alone cure it. Crowley did kind of skim over the details," She gave a scoff. "Talk about being vague."

"I'm just grateful we're alive," The Doctor looked away from her agitated wide eyes and clenched his jaw. "I should never have gotten you involved in this."

"I'm a big girl now, Doctor, I can make my own decisions," Clara snapped, but softened her eyes to take the sharp edge off her words. She knew it wasn't the Doctor's fault that they were now effectively homeless.

"I'm still responsible."

"Shut up," Clara sighed, feeling her frustration levels rise once again. "We just need a plan of action. Now. We can't just stand here."

She cast a quick unimpressed glance around herself, taking in the barren wasteland that was their surroundings and silently cursing Crowley down to the darkest pits of Hell. She could see the lights of the motorway twinkling like stars not too far away in the distance, and what looked to be a small town. It was getting dark, but she figured they could make it before she collapsed of exhaustion.

The Doctor's eyes suddenly widened. He snapped his fingers, mouth slightly agape.

"The Winchesters!" He exclaimed, his eyes finally focusing on Clara's. "They're hunters with the know-how. This whole mess started with my meeting with them, maybe it will finish with it too. At least we're in the right country to call over for a chat."

"I don't know, Doctor," Clara frowned, skeptical. "America is a big country, and they could be anywhere. Plus, they meddle with all things dangerous. You and those two wouldn't make a very clever combination."

The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver with a smug grin, and Clara was sure her words had not even reached his ears.

"I can hunt them down," He narrowed his eyes in determination. "I can find the Tardis and fix this nonsense."

"Okay…"

"Don't give me that condescending tone, Miss Oswald, I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve," He paused, then patted the sides of his coat. "Well, pockets. Hunter-y things from our time with that demon. Could come in useful."

"Right, good luck with that," Clara turned on her heel, beginning to walk away. She needed to cool off and clear her head, unconvinced that the Doctor would do much good with whatever voodoo stuff he had leftover in his pockets.

"Where are you going?!" The Doctor's voice followed her in indignation. "I've got a plan!"

"And I've got to sleep before I punch something," Clara called over her shoulder, hoping fervently that she had enough money to book her at least one night in a motel. "Either come with me, or don't. Tell me if you find those Winchesters, yeah?"

"Don't sulk, Clara-"

"I am _not_ sulking!" She cried in anger, turning around and cringing at how petulant she sounded. She took a deep breath. "Look, Doctor, I am totally on board with your plan, but humans need sleep, remember? And this human is irritated and potentially dangerous right now if you cross me. So I'm going to find the nearest motel, and you're coming with me, and we're going to find those Winchester people in the morning. Alright?"

"Well that's a relief," The Doctor blinked at her.

"What's a relief?"

"You're still angry and bossy, looks like the gas didn't affect you too badly."

"Oi, watch it," She raised her hand in warning and began to walk in the direction of the lights once more. She smiled when she heard the Doctor's footsteps following her with large strides. "Motel, sleep, then plan of action. Okay?"

"I'd say it's a deal, but I think we've made enough of those for one day," The Doctor grunted and Clara looked up at him as he fell into step beside her and offered him a small smile. It was the best she could manage. "I'll come with you to this motel. But I won't be sleeping. I will be gathering information."

"Come on, Doctor-"

"Time Lord's don't need that much sleep," The Doctor insisted nonchalantly. "We lack the laziness you humans seem to possess."

"Thanks," Clara replied with a light chuckle as they fell into comfortable silence while they walked.

The sky was darkening, and her thoughts began to stray to pass the time and take her mind off the fact that her tired legs were already beginning to ache. Much to her dismay, the first thing to come to her mind was Crowley. She pursed her lips tightly as she used her sudden rush of anger to propel herself forward, quickening her pace and overtaking the Doctor momentarily.

That smug demon had dropped them here and found it _amusing_. After everything they'd been through, he just left them to fend for themselves and hadn't cared in the slightest, with not a word about the Tardis. Clara struggled to come to terms with the fact that he just didn't care about them, didn't care about her… The realisation sent a sudden painful pang through her heart and she frowned at the emotions she was suddenly feeling. She couldn't afford to think like this, to feel like this. The man was a demon, of course he didn't care about her. Why should it even matter?

She shook her head, forcing herself to bring her mind to other places and engage in conversation with the Doctor to take her mind off things.

By the time they eventually reached civilisation after a couple of hours of brisk walking and complaints from the Doctor, her legs felt as if they were about to drop off but the lights from a small grubby motel made her face light up in a smile.

"We made it," She panted, dragging the Doctor inside to check in.

She was more than relieved to find that she had enough money on her for one night, and tried to push the nagging knowledge that she had no idea what they would do the next night to the back of her mind.

Throwing herself down on the bed, she wanted nothing more than to sleep but her racing mind wouldn't let her. Crowley's smug smirk greeted her every time she closed her eyes. Try as she might, she couldn't shut her brain off, and the Doctor wasn't exactly helping. He had taken off his coat and was lying on the bed, and though he had been deep in thought at first, now he was constantly fidgeting and groaning about the lousy décor in the scant room.

"Right, if I spend one more second in this room my brain is going to spontaneously combust," The Doctor hopped up from the bed at the other side of the small, simply laid out room and headed to the door. Clara sat up quickly.

"Where are you going?"

"Off out," The Doctor pulled open the door and stepped outside, in such a hurry he didn't even take the time to put on his trademark jacket. "Stay here. I'm going to check out this place. See where exactly we are. That demon must have dropped us here for a reason. Definitely, I can feel it. Don't wait up."

Before Clara could protest, he had shut the door behind him. She shut her mouth which was still slightly agape and flopped down onto the bed again with a pout, feeling utterly useless. She closed her eyes, sighing loudly when the first thing she saw was Crowley.

She didn't miss him. No way did she miss him. She wouldn't allow herself to even consider missing him.

But that didn't mean she couldn't think about him for a little bit.

"That demon must have dropped us here for a reason…" She murmured quietly to herself, slowly repeating the Doctor's words. She frowned sceptically. Maybe he was right, or maybe Crowley was just a douche who enjoyed other people's torment. She was fairly certain it was the latter.

She sat up suddenly, an idea coming to her as the exhaustion she felt was quickly replaced by adrenaline.

Or maybe she could ask him herself.

She got up quickly, grabbed her phone from the dresser beside her and made for the door before hesitating. She looked back to see the Doctor forgotten coat lying haphazardly on the bed. Looking around her quickly as if the Time Lord would return at any moment, she lifted the jacket and shook it slightly with a frown. She reached into the pockets, the Doctor's words from earlier regarding _'tricks up his sleeve'_ floating back to her. Her hand closed around something soft but textured, and she retrieved what appeared to be a small bag of mixed herbs. She stared at it, pondering what the Doctor had needed this for. Was it even anything to do with Crowley? Were demons allergic to it or something?

Shrugging, she pocketed it anyway and reached into the coat again, feeling slightly guilty for rummaging through the Doctor's things but knowing that it would be worth it if it paid off. She gave a scoff of surprise when she found a candle, her eyes widening as she found another, and another- How big were the Doctor's pockets anyway?

There were more than ten candles now lying on the bed in front of her, and she knew they must be important if he had so many of them. Could they possibly be used to summon a demon? She wasn't certain, it wasn't as if she was an expert in the subject, but she had a strong feeling they could be. They used candles in horror movies, didn't they? Deciding she should at least be prepared for anything, she gathered them all up and left the room, shutting the door behind her firmly. She didn't have a clue what she was to do with all this, but she knew a place where she could find out. They were on the outskirts of a small town, a small town which she was sure contained a library.

She wrapped her jacket more closely around herself as she practically jogged past the tall, desolate buildings, more lights appearing as she entered the centre of the town. It was almost completely empty, save for a few stragglers outside noisy pubs which she made sure to steer well clear of. She knew the Doctor wouldn't like what she was about to do, but she had never been one for following rules. And if the Doctor could get up and leave the motel whenever he wanted, she could too.

The town wasn't large, but it was an unfamiliar maze to Clara. She was relieved when she finally located the large, dark building. Shut, of course. It was the early hours of the morning.

She jogged up the clean cut stone steps and approached the door. She hesitated nervously, slowly curling her hand around the prototype sonic in her pocket. Was she really willing to break into a library for a demon?

Apparently she was, because the next thing she knew she was pointing the metal screwdriver at the door handle and pressing the button. The device emitted a low hum, but had no effect on the door itself. Clara frowned. Trust the Doctor to give her something faulty.

"Come on," She muttered impatiently, trying once more but to no avail. "Damn it."

She gave up with a sharp sigh before a sudden idea came to mind. She paused, looking around her quickly to make sure she wasn't being watched. Satisfied, she skipped around the edge of the building to one of the tall glass windows, hidden in the shadow of the side of the building. She held the screwdriver between clenched teeth and hoisted herself up onto the ledge. She managed to stand shakily, bracing herself against the cool glass. The window was taller than she was, but she could see the metal latch that fastened it shut from the inside. She plucked the screwdriver from her mouth and looked at it. It was a long shot, but she had nothing left to lose.

She aimed it at the latch, pushing the button. She stifled a cry of delight when the latch popped with a muffled click and the top half of the window opened slightly with the pressure.

"You don't work on doors but you work on windows," She laughed, giving the sonic a twirl and putting it back into her pocket. "Brilliant work, Doctor."

She gripped the edge of the window pane with both hands securely, then proceeded to pull herself up and squeeze through the open glass. She launched herself over the other side and dropped to the ground with a soft exclamation of discomfort, brushing herself down. She fixed her hair breathlessly, attempting to appear nonchalant and presentable even though there was clearly no one around to witness her.

Nonetheless, she began to tiptoe quietly through the empty library, using the dim light from her phone to light her way and wishing the Doctor had thought to install a flashlight in the prototype screwdriver.

She moved straight past all the ordinary books, genre after genre until she located a darker, dustier and more decrepit section of the building. She knew that if she was going to find the type of book she was looking for, she would have to venture past the conventional genres.

She ran a hand along the spines of the older volumes, the books that had clearly been left here for years, mainly untouched. The genres were all mixed up now, with books ranging from romantic novels to history to horror. She stopped short when she saw the symbol, her hand hovering in the air above it, frozen. A strange pentagon based symbol, suspiciously similar to a devil's trap. Before all this nonsense had happened, she would have completely overlooked the odd shapes carved into the wooden bookcase, but now she knew it meant something. Something important, something dangerous. Something she needed badly.

She scanned the books more fervently now, looking for names that would aid her cause. She was just feeling as if she should give up, this had been a long shot after all, when she spotted it. Hidden in a crevice behind a slightly larger volume was a book so thickly coated with dust the title was almost incomprehensible. But she could make out the faint gold emblazoned writing: _The Supernatural._

Her breath hitched in her throat as she grabbed the book as quickly as she could without tearing the binding and opened it, scanning the ancient index until she found what she was looking for.

She had already exorcised a demon. Been there, done that.

Now it was time to summon one.

"A bowl of mixed herbs alongside seven lit candles in a specific order with lines that connect them…" She read aloud in a soft murmur, thoughtful. A small smile grew on her face. Candles, check. She had more than enough. Bag of herbs? She was in luck. There was surely chalk somewhere in this place.

She jumped when she heard a soft creak from somewhere behind her, followed by a louder creak which quickly morphed into a set of footsteps. Low voices wafted around the corner towards her, and she realised she wasn't alone.

Snapping into action, she did the first thing she could think of doing and hid behind a shelf under a small table, wrapping her arms around her legs tightly in the cramped, confined space. She held her breath as the voices drifted closer, wondering how long they had been there for and how they had gotten in. She could only hazard a guess that they had broken in, much the same as her by the way they were talking in urgent, hushed voices. She strained her ears to make out what they were saying.

"- I'm telling you, Sammy, there's something going on here and I don't like it," A gruff, deep voice with a hint of a Texas accent reached her ears. "I'll bet you anything demons have got their dirty paws all over this."

Clara held her breath at his words in anticipation.

"Anything, huh?" A different voice replied with a scoff, slightly less deep than the first speaker. "You'd bet the Impala?"

"Don't bring baby into this," The voice from before growled, his playful tone not without an edge of a threat. His statement was met with an impatient sigh.

"Look, Dean, I'm not trying to play this down, there's definitely something odd going on in this town," The man suddenly came into Clara's line of vision, his face lined with a grimace. He was tall, and the room was dark so she could barely make out his face, but she noted that he had long brown hair and was wearing what looked to be a FED suit. But he wasn't talking like an FBI agent. "Two mystery deaths in the last week, and it's not like whoever- _Whatever_ did it exactly made a big deal out of cleaning up after themselves."

"Could be hellhounds collecting deals," His companion stepped into view, shining a flashlight around the room fleetingly. Clara held her breath. "Nothing we haven't seen before."

" _But_ ," The man who Clara could now see more clearly stopped walking and turned to face his slightly shorter friend. His long hair and brown puppy dog eyes did nothing to mask the concern he so clearly showed on his face. Clara gulped when she realised that they were both carrying guns. "I don't think we should be getting involved in crap like this when we should really be focusing on the matter at hand," He eyed up the other man's arm with a raised eyebrow and a grimace. "Literally, at hand."

The man pulled down his sleeve quickly, just allowing Clara to catch a quick glimpse of a faint pink scar on his forearm before it was hidden from sight by the flannel shirt he wore. She could see his face now too, and immediately noticed the resemblance to the other man, though his hair was cropped short and his face was harder, his expression stonier.

"Enough about the mark," He snapped, turning sharply to head off in the other direction, leaving Clara's line of sight. "Can't I catch a break for once? Nag nag nag, all the time. It's terrifying, you know. Watching my own brother turn into an anxious old lady."

 _Brothers,_ Clara thought, lodging the information into her brain. _Explains a lot._

"Complain all you want, but-"

"I'm not complaining!" The man snapped, his tone strained. "That's the whole point, Sam. I've got this. I am _fine_. It's not my problem you're a freaking mother hen."

His words were met with another steady sigh from the man who Clara now knew as Sam. She assumed his brother was Dean from the way he had addressed him.

"We're going to take on the case, then?" Sam asked, his voice heavy with defeat in the argument. He held up a strange device that lit up in an array of colours and whined with increasing frequency. "EMF is crazy in here. Could be ghosts, not demons."

"Could've been either," Was the uncaring reply. "I think we've got more important things to worry about."

"Such as?"

" _Such as_ , we're going to have to frickin' deal with whatever's actually here instead of just talking about it, aren't we?" The man Clara guessed was named Dean snapped, his tone fed up. "Family business. Great."

"We'd better get a move on then," Sam agreed, relenting. "You're right, there is something going on in this town, and you're going to sulk if we don't check it out-"

"Guess we better check it out then, right?" His brother forced a cheery smile onto his face and moved out of sight, Sam following suit. "But first, we're going to go get something to eat. I'm freaking _starving_."

"Right," Sam sighed with a hint of an airy laugh, as if unhappy with the situation but having no choice but to go along with it anyway. "First stop, cheeseburger, next stop, the family business. It's a plan."

The pair moved not so silently through the library, disappearing a different direction to the one Clara had entered from. She guessed there must be some sort of back entrance.

Clara continued to keep her breaths shallow and light, practically caved in on herself in the small enclosed space until she could no longer hear any movement in the library and was absolutely sure the two men had gone. Something about them rang a bell, but she couldn't quite seem to pinpoint it.

She urged her racing heart to slow down to normal once again as she crawled out from under the table, throwing quick occasional glances over her shoulder just in case. She wondered why they were there, her thoughts drifting back to their unreassuringly words of ghosts and demons.

She assumed the men were 'hunters', like the ones the Doctor had mentioned. She really hadn't expected to run into any in her first few hours in the states.

Shaking slightly, she listened intently for any more signs of intruders, relieved when she heard none. The encounter had put her off, but she was still determined to get this job done.

She used the dim light of her phone to lead the way to the reception desk, willing her battery not to die on her. She grabbed a piece of chalk, a box of matches and tipped a small metal box of pens onto the ground, bringing it over to a relatively empty desk. She hurriedly pushed the rest of the things that rested atop it onto the floor. She wasn't usually this much of a public menace, but she wanted to get this over and done with quickly, reluctant to spend any more time than necessary in this dark building that seemed to be potentially haunted according to the two FBI agent hunters.

Clara quickly opened the bag of herbs and emptied the contents into the box that had previously contained an assortment of pens. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do.

She addressed the old book again, checking to see what the next step was. She copied the instructions written on the page, placing the candles in what she hoped was the correct order and trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her that this was a very, _very_ idiotic idea. She picked up the chalk and began to draw lines to connect the candles as was illustrated, forcing her shaking hand to make the lines as straight as possible.

Her racing heart stopped for a moment in horror as she read the next step of the instructions.

" _To effectively perform the ritual, blood must be offered by dropping it on the herbs."_

Clara swallowed, hard. It was too late to turn back now. She needed to do this, she had too many questions that were left unanswered, and it could be their only chance of saving the Tardis.

She searched the drawers in the desk for something sharp, finding nothing of use. She bit her lip in frustration, about to give up when she had her most idiotic idea to date. No, her most idiotic idea was ever getting involved with Crowley, this idea was a close second.

She glanced at the glass casing on one of the shelves, making a quick decision. She tugged off one of her shoes, now grateful for the small heel on it and hit it against the glass, hard. A small crack appeared and she hit it again with more force this time, finally shattering the glass completely.

"This is not just mindless vandalism," She stated firmly, not sure who exactly she was trying to convince. She gave the bookshelf an awkward pat. "Sorry."

Panting, she put her shoe back on and grabbed a jagged fragment of glass, returning to the small bowl of herbs.

Biting her lip hard, she slowly drew the glass over her hand until a few beads of blood appeared on her palm and she felt a sharp, piercing pain. Fighting back tears, she squeezed her hand into a fist, hovering it over the metal box until a drop fell silently into the mixture of herbs.

"This is bloody insane," She spat angrily, before picking up the matches and reading from the book quickly. "Et ad congregandum, Eos coram me."

She struck the match and threw it into a corner of the herbs, giving a small shriek as the effect caused a minor explosion from the box of herbs and sparks flew at her.

She used her good hand to shield her eyes from the fierce glow, and when she opened them, she realised she had made a very, _very_ big mistake.

A fair-haired man stood silently before her, and when he raised his head and opened his eyes, they burned black as coal. Clara gasped and took a step back as the demon cocked his head to the side in interest, his eyes remaining wide and dark as night.

"What have we here?" He spoke with a nasally, sinister tone, and the room suddenly felt colder.

"I don't know," A female voice came from Clara's right and she spun around quickly to face the source. A raven-haired woman stood with a sneer in place on her face, her arms folded. When she blinked, her bright blue eyes turned pitch black. "She doesn't look like a hunter."

"You're right," A new voice, male this time, drifted closer as another black eyed man emerged from the shadows. He grinned widely, revealing a set of bright white teeth in a smile that seemed almost sinister. "Interesting. What is it you want, girl?"

"I- I-" Clara stuttered, retreating quickly with an attempt at a faltering nervous grin. "I think there's been some kind of mistake."

"An accidental summoning?" The demon who had spoken first took a threatening step forward and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Well, well, well, now _that_ is something else."

"Not who you were expecting, sweetie?" The woman smiled widely with false charm, her black eyes menacing. "What a shame."

"So what should we do with her?" The question seemed to hang in the air for too long as Clara's heart hammered in her chest. She clutched her bleeding hand protectively, unsure what to do, suddenly wishing she had brought the Doctor with her for backup. Or even Crowley. _Why_ couldn't she have summoned Crowley instead of accidentally attracting this group of sadistic demons? At this point, she probably wouldn't ever see Crowley again. The thought made a lump form in her throat, and she tried to convince herself it was just the fear.

She attempted to pull herself together. Crowley would be laughing at her right now if he saw how close to panicking she was. She could almost hear his voice now. _"What's the matter, darling? I know you're probably a lover, not a fighter, but get a grip."_ She almost smiled as she imagined the way he would wink at her, that confident smirk on his lips. The thought almost soothed her somehow, and she found a new sense of courage. She had to act now. She wasn't going to just stand here and say nothing, let these demons kill her. She wasn't going down without a fight.

"Well, you know what they say," Clara forced a choked laugh out, trying to refrain from backing away from the group of demons. "Three's a crowd. And just to clarify, I mean you three, in case you can't count," Clara froze for a moment. _Shut up shut up shut up._ Her mouth was beginning to run away with her. Crowley was having too much of an influence on her. She couldn't afford to be too cheeky with these dangerous spirits. "So, yeah. If you could just…"

She pursed her lips and gestured to the door. The demons exchanged looks of mild surprise and chuckled menacingly.

"That's a nice concept," The middle demon replied with a smirk. "But we're here now. And it looks like you've just wasted our time."

Clara opened her mouth and closed it again, unsure how to get herself out of the situation now.

"You know what? I- I think you should really just go back to where you came from," She tried to sound brave, knowing her attempt was weak. "Back to… To Hell or whatever. I'm… Sorry I bothered you."

The fair-haired man laughed, a chilling sound that caused an uncomfortable shiver of disgust mingled with fear to run down Clara's spine.

"Or maybe we should take you with us."

A swift motion of his hand sent Clara flying across the room, crashing into a bookshelf and dropping to the floor with a yelp of pain. Books fell around her as she struggled to sit up, gasping for breath and holding her injured hand against her protectively. Tears pricked her eyes but she wouldn't cry, she wouldn't.

The demon rounded on her, his eyes black and ferocious. Clara knew there was no escaping this now.

He bared his teeth menacingly and lunged forward in an almost animalistic manner.

Clara screamed.

* * *

 **CLIFFHANGER! DON'T RUN ME OVER WITH ANY IMPALAS I'M SORRY.**

 **So I'm just going to start off by saying I really didn't like this chapter, it was necessary but I don't even know if it made sense. Promise the next chapter will be better though, I can't wait to write it!**

 **SO HOW MANY OF YOU HAVE I CONVERTED?! HOW MANY CLARA/CROWLEY SHIPPERS ARE OUT THERE NOW?!**

 **Anyway I hope this chapter wasn't too terrible, please give me some feedback to let me know what you thought of it :) Thank you!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey I'm back! Sorry for the last chapter, it wasn't that great, but hopefully this one will be better, I way prefer it**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

A sharp hissing sound filled the air.

Clara opened her eyes, unable to recall ever having closed them, the scream dying in her throat as her terror was swiftly replaced with confusion.

The demon in front of her choked, his black eyes burning with fear and Clara finally laid eyes on the tip of a shimmering blade protruding from his chest. A wave of fiery electricity coursed through him with a tremor, once, twice, and then the blade was sharply withdrawn from whoever was standing behind, and the demon dropped to the floor, lifeless.

Clara raised her wide eyes which she was sure were filled with the shock and fright that she was feeling to meet the person who stood looking disdainfully down at the corpse on the ground, the dagger in his hand, its jagged blade glistening with blood.

It was Crowley.

"Did I say you could kill this one?!" He yelled in fury, and for once Clara was genuinely frightened of him. She had never seen him so angry, so full of pure undiluted rage as he rounded on the two remaining demons now. He gritted his teeth, and Clara thought she caught a glimpse of fiery red flash in his murderous eyes before she blinked and the moment was gone. "Did I?!"

"I- We didn't know-"

"You're lucky your pathetic lives aren't worth enough to waste my time killing you slowly," Crowley spat at the dark-haired, lower level demon who had just managed to choke the first few words of a sentence out. Crowley ignored the demons pleading gaze and stutters as he begged for forgiveness. He thrust the knife into the demon's torso, his mouth bared in a furious grimace. "I should rip your friggin' hearts out!"

Wasting no time, he quickly pulled out the knife and Clara watched from her helpless position on the ground as he effortlessly finished off the last demon, leaving the three lifeless bodies on the ground.

Clara gasped, resisting the urge to curl in on herself in shock. This was _not_ something she had been expecting. Somewhere in the confused haze of her mind, she actually found herself feeling joy at Crowley's arrival. She blinked as he finally turned to face her, worrying for a moment that he might disappear if she took her eyes off him for just a nanosecond too long.

"C- Crowley?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper, her tone hopeful, almost disbelieving. Crowley's expression turned to stone as he surveyed her, striding over in quick, determined steps. If he even heard her acknowledgment, he did not show it.

He dropped to his knees in front of her and took a hold of her injured hand wordlessly, examining it with a hint of that previous rage back in his eyes. Clara was rendered speechless for a moment at how gentle he was as he cradled her hand carefully, giving an angry hiss of disapproval as he got a better view of the extent of the damage. He ran a finger across the side of her hand softly and Clara almost gasped at the sudden flutters of electricity that coursed through her. She stifled the gasp, wondering why he was having such an effect on her. Clara sucked in a quick breath as a jolt of pain stemmed from her palm again, and Crowley released her hand.

Clara wasn't sure what to say when Crowley finally locked eyes with her, but she knew she had never been so glad to see anyone in her entire life. She watched the fire slowly die from his eyes as he looked at her, and Clara wanted to believe that she wasn't just imagining the small spark of concern she could've almost sworn she saw flicker in his dark irises. She wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him and bury her head in his shoulder, but was afraid he might recoil if taken off guard. She didn't want to make him uneasy.

"You have a penchant for getting yourself into life-threatening situations, don't you?" Crowley broke his silence, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Not a very healthy lifestyle."

Clara swallowed almost guiltily, knowing now how idiotic her decision had been.

"I didn't know-"

"Were you by any chance dropped on your head a great deal?" He scoffed, almost amused though his eyes remained hard as stone. "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."

"Don't rub it in," Clara managed a weak glare, holding her hand against her chest protectively.

"You don't go summoning demons just for the hell of it," Crowley rolled his eyes as if shocked by her stupidity. "What's the deal with that?"

"I thought I was summoning you!"

Crowley narrowed his eyes again, almost suspiciously. He looked as if he was about to laugh but Clara silenced him with a death stare.

"Honestly, darling," Crowley shook his head slowly. "Your eyes are brighter than your future right now if that's the way you're going to play this."

"Well, how else was I supposed to contact you?" Clara questioned through gritted teeth as Crowley reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a long white handkerchief.

"You could've just called," He threw her that signature smirk that Clara hadn't realised how much she missed until now. "Or texted, that's what you kids do these days, isn't it?"

"What's your number, 666?" Clara couldn't resist a cheeky grin as Crowley laughed and wrapped the handkerchief around her hand securely, stemming the steady flow of blood. He didn't reply, but winked at her suggestively, causing Clara to laugh softly.

"Other than this idiotic mishap, are you hurt?" Crowley's eyes had turned hard again, almost dangerous, but she knew the anger wasn't directed at her. "Did they hurt you?"

Clara mind flashed back to the terrifying memory of having been thrown across the room by some invisible force, but she decided to overlook the minor detail. The demon who had caused that was dead, and she was safe now. Safe with Crowley.

"No, no, I'm alright… Now," She breathed, looking up at Crowley and trying to convey her gratitude with her eyes. "Thank you."

"Really, Clara, how did you ever function without me?"

"Brilliantly, with 90% less danger in my life and no knowledge that demons like you even exist," Clara smiled sweetly up at him.

"And what would you have done, sweet little Clara, if I hadn't shown up when I did," Crowley stepped closer, cocking his head to the side slightly, seemingly interested in her answer. "Or if I simply decided not to help you at all, that you weren't even worth my time?"

Clara paused for a moment with a small shrug, not wanting to think about how the scenario could have actually played out had she not had Crowley to help her.

"Well," She inclined her head towards the three lifeless bodies on the ground. "Clearly I'm worth at least three demons."

Crowley raised his eyebrows and chuckled, then took her uninjured hand suddenly in his. Clara's breath caught in her throat and Crowley's smirk widened, noting her reaction.

"Fasten your seatbelt."

"What-"

They were gone before Clara could finish her sentence, and her stomach lurched again in that uncomfortable manner. Realising what had happened, she opened her eyes to find that they were no longer in the library. She was clutching Crowley's hand tightly, and felt somehow reluctant to let go even though they were back on solid ground. She exhaled slowly and looked around her.

"We're not in Kansas anymore, kid," Crowley smirked as Clara struggled to bring her breathing back to normal. At least she didn't feel like she was going to throw up all over Crowley's shoes this time.

"That wasn't as bad as the last time," She breathed, regaining control of her shaking legs.

"Told you you'd get used to it," Crowley replied nonchalantly.

Clara suddenly realised with a start that she was still holding Crowley's hand. She blushed furiously, letting go quickly.

"Sorry," She mumbled, tucking her hair behind her ear as her cheeks flushed red.

"You look even prettier when you blush, you know that?" The demon smirked wider when her cheeks heated up even more at his comment and winked.

"Shut up"

"Sweet."

"Where even are we?" Clara huffed loudly, trying to change the subject and willing her pink cheeks to return to their normal pallor.

"Still in America, I'm afraid," He flashed her a smile. "I have business here, and I don't think you'd want to go home without your Doctor friend. Not that I'm willing to give him free first class demon travel back to Britain. That moronic Time Lord is going to have to make his own way back."

"He's not going to leave here until he finds those Winchesters," Clara sighed hopelessly, shaking her head in dismay.

"Well, in that case, he's definitely on his own," Crowley made a face at the mention of the two hunters. "I'd rather not get too much screen time with those two punks."

"And I'd rather not stay stuck in this country, effectively homeless, while you swan off and do whatever it is the king of hell does," Clara snapped, her anger at him from earlier swiftly coming back to her. This was part of the reason she had tried to summon him, after all. "Leaving us stranded here, Crowley? Really?"

"Not my problem."

"Yes, yes it is!" Clara raised her voice, her frustration growing. "Look, I know you're not a fan of the Doctor but what about me? I tried to help you! I stood up for you, because I knew you were more than just… Just…"

"Just what?" Crowley's eyes were narrowed and his expression was cold and distant as he awaited her answer.

"Just… The heartless, evil demon everyone thinks you are," Clara nearly stumbled over her words, almost afraid of how Crowley would take them. "There's more to you Crowley, I know it."

"I'm the king of hell, what you see is what you get," Crowley growled threateningly. "I'm a demon, Clara, there's no changing that. I know what I am."

"You're stubborn, that's what you are!" Clara yelled, not bothering to try keep her voice down anymore. She was beyond caring.

"And you're a complication," Crowley snapped, anger vivid in his dark eyes.

"I'm probably the only human being who actually cares whether you live or die right now, you could at least show a little bit of consideration!" Clara hissed, taking a daring step closer.

"Like I said, a complication," Crowley clenched his hands into fists in frustration. "I didn't ask for any of this."

"And you think I did?" Clara scoffed incredulously. "You think I wanted to get involved with demons and curses and- Why are you laughing?!"

Clara was practically hopping up and down in frustration now, her mouth set in a firm line and her eyes glaring at Crowley. The demon was unable to hold back his grin, a deep chuckle escaping his lips.

"You're adorable when you get all angry and flustered, you know that?"

Clara pouted as she felt her cheeks flush again. She managed to glower at Crowley.

"Shut _up_!"

"Gladly," Crowley smiled brightly and raised his hand, poised as if to snap his fingers. "I'll just leave then, shall I?"

Clara pursed her lips together in a thin line, closing her eyes for a second as she tried to calm down.

"Don't!" She managed finally, exasperated. "Stay, please."

"That's what I thought," Crowley let his hand drop to his side. "Not that it's very clever of you. You should really stay away from me."

"Or what?" Clara challenged, jutting her chin out defiantly. Crowley smiled, his eyes narrowed almost as if he enjoyed the challenge she posed.

"I'd hate to ruin the surprise."

"You can't just leave again," Clara snapped with a roll of her eyes. "You're the only one who can help us. Without you, the Tardis will be destroyed and I'll be in one hell of a mess stuck over here alone! Excuse the pun."

"I don't owe you anything, Clara," Crowley replied stonily. "I saved you, twice now, that sort of thing could really tarnish my reputation. Just because you helped me doesn't mean-"

"I'm not a damsel in distress, Crowley, you don't have to watch over me like a guardian angel," Clara interrupted fiercely. "I just thought I could… I don't know, stay with you for a while," Clara hesitated for a second. What was she getting herself into? What was she _doing_? She quickly tried to slap a joking smile onto her face. "Or are you just a one night stand kind of guy?"

"Are you trying to ask me out on a date?" Crowley winked seductively and Clara knew her cheeks were red hot by now. She gaped at him in shock, stuttering wildly as she tried to come up with an appropriate retort. Damn Crowley and his ability to catch her off guard.

" _No!_ " She yelped indignantly, placing her hands on her hips and trying not to appear as flustered as she felt. "Of course not!"

"Well, I'm disappointed," Crowley feigned an expression of mock hurt, though the corners of his lips were still ever so slightly curved upwards. "Am I really that repulsive to you? I know I'm a demon, but in fairness I did save you from dying."

"Yeah but-" Clara tried in vain not to stumble over her words in front of the smug demon. "I- Shut up!"

"Ouch, someone's got a favourite phrase."

"Well, it certainly comes in handy."

"Fancy a drink then?" Crowley smirked, stepping closer. Clara hadn't realised how close they were standing until now. She had to crane her neck a little to look up at him. Her heart began to hammer in her chest, but she chose to ignore it.

"I didn't accidentally summon three bloodthirsty demons while trying to call you just so I could go for a drink with you, you know," She cocked her head to the side with a smirk of her own, inching ever so slightly closer unconsciously. Crowley winked.

"Exactly, what a bonus."

"Shut up!" Clara laughed and hit his arm playfully. Crowley blinked in surprise and brushed himself off.

"Feisty."

"Fine."

"Fine what?" Crowley raised his eyebrows in question.

" _Fine,_ I'll go for a drink with you," Clara couldn't stop herself smiling, suddenly feeling lighter and more carefree than she had in ages. Crowley returned her smile, and Clara forgot for a moment that he was a demon and she was a human, that he was evil and she should run from him. For that moment, they were just Crowley and Clara, and she felt free.

"It's a date," Crowley flashed a smile and Clara rolled her eyes at him whilst carefully unwrapping the bandage from her hand. She had made sure to make the smallest incision possible, and from a quick inspection of it she decided the wound wasn't deep enough to require stitches. She had gotten lucky, and the flow of blood had stopped, though it was still painful.

She hesitantly began to hand the handkerchief back to Crowley, who looked at it with a disdainful expression and a raised brow. Clara shrugged and dropped it to the ground instead. The demon snorted at her action and made a swift motion with his hand, and Clara yelped when the piece of cloth immediately caught fire. She stared in awe as it burned rapidly, quickly fading into nothing but ash much more quickly than it would have had the fire been normal fire. This fire was caused by the king of hell himself.

"I suppose you're a bit of a germaphobe then?" She tested with a joking smile and Crowley scoffed.

"Let me see that," He held out his hand and curved his fingers expectantly. Clara paused for a moment before realising what he meant and then approached cautiously, holding out her hand. She gave a small cry of pain as she stretched her fingers out and bit her lip hard. Maybe the cut was worse than she had first thought.

Crowley tutted and took her hand in his so gently that Clara gave a small gasp. Crowley looked up at her cautiously and she nodded quickly to give her consent as he continued to examine her hand. He huffed a small sigh.

"Sit tight, this might hurt a bit," He covered her palm with one of his whilst cradling her hand in the other. Clara winced and gave a small exclamation of surprise when she felt a tinge of pain in her hand, and strange burning sensation which lasted a couple of seconds. She held her breath as Crowley drew his hand away, surveying her palm and giving a small frown.

"That's the best I can do, I'm afraid," He muttered, releasing her hand as Clara gaped at it in shock. "I'm no angel, healing isn't exactly my forte. Can't usually heal wounds outside the context of a deal, unless it's minor."

"How did you…" Clara breathed as she looked at her hand in awe. The cut was still visible, and still stung slightly, but it looked days old. It was much thinner and already well into the healing process. It was no perfect job, but it was better than nothing.

"Being the king of hell has its perks," Crowley shrugged nonchalantly as Clara attempted to convey her gratitude with her eyes. He smirked. "Now, how about that drink?"

* * *

 **This story is literally 90% sass omg. But I like writing the sass. I enjoy the sass.**

 **SO what did you think?! Please tell me you ship it, please join me and feel the feels :O**

 **OH and with the whole Crowley healing thing, I researched it and yes, Crowley is the only demon known in the show to be able to heal wounds, but only minor ones. Demons can heal wounds if it is something to do with a deal, but I guess since Crowley is a more powerful demon (king of hell and all that) he can heal minor wounds. So I wrote about that and tried to make it kinda believable. Just in case any of you were wondering about that, because I definitely wasn't sure until I looked it up.**

 **QUESTION OF THE DAY IT'S A TOUGH ONE:**

 **Which do you prefer, the Tardis or the Impala?**

 **I honestly cannot answer. I'll have to think about this one.**

 **I hope this chapter was okay, next one will be up soon I hope :)**

 **Leave a review and let me know what you think if you want! Thank you for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**HEY GUYSSSS, SO I am back with another chapter, I don't know why I'm so into this story like it isn't even one of my more popular ones, like not as many people like it but I still just really love writing it and I am so so so grateful to you readers out there who do like it! You are my motivation and I love you!**

 **WARNING: Sass content is v v high in this chapter**

 **Like all other chapters in this story.**

 **I apologise for the overload of sass. YAY.**

 **So here you go, I really hope you like it! If you'd like, give me some feedback, it'd really help :)**

* * *

This strange method of travelling that demons seemed to possess was proving difficult for Clara to get used to. It didn't help that Crowley kept zapping her away somewhere when she least expected it, giving her no time whatsoever to mentally prepare herself. He did this intentionally, she was sure of it.

She took a moment to catch her breath and took a shaky step away from Crowley, fiddling with her hair almost nervously.

"We're outside a pub," She panted, casting a glance up to the building they were now standing in front of thanks to Crowley's 'first-class demon travel'. The door was ajar, and she could hear faint music and a hum of conversation and raucous laughter coming from inside.

"Heavens above, nothing gets past you, does it, Clara?" Crowley adopted a mockingly sarcastic tone, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat. "Was it the abundance of alcohol that gave it away or the sign that reads 'bar'?"

Clara pulled a face, refusing to give in to the strong urge to stick her tongue out at him petulantly. She adjusted her hair, brushed herself down, and began walking towards the entrance. She threw a quick smirk over her shoulder.

"That's it, you're not getting a tip, taxi man."

She smiled as she heard Crowley's soft chuckle from close behind her and made her way into the crowded bar. She had never been to a bar in America before, she realised. It couldn't be that different to England, surely, but she still had a faint buzz of nervousness in her stomach as she seated herself beside Crowley who promptly ordered their drinks. She wasn't sure if the fluttering sensation she was feeling in her stomach was from being in an entirely new situation, or because she was actually sitting beside the king of hell, effectively on a date with him. Trouble was, if she _did_ in fact happen to be on a date with the demon, she was actually _enjoying_ it. It was mildly disconcerting to her that instead of being put off by the danger that came with this man, she wanted to move closer to him.

She took a dainty sip of the cocktail that had been placed in front of her and chanced a sidelong glance at Crowley. He returned her gaze with that ridiculously relaxed smile of his, taping his index finger against his glass absentmindedly. Clara inclined her head towards his scotch and felt a smile grace her lips.

"Whiskey is the eleventh most disgusting thing ever invented," She mused almost teasingly, remembering a time when she had said something similar on one of her many adventures with the Doctor. That all seemed so long ago now, she realised with a sudden ache of sadness and fondness all rolled into one. She treasured every trip she had ever had with that man in his battered blue box. She couldn't bear the thought that she might never get to travel in the Tardis again.

Crowley narrowed his eyes almost suspiciously, as if she had just said something that could potentially label her as clinically insane. He looked about to respond with some snarky retort, but something shifted in his eyes and he merely smirked and raised his glass to her.

"A spirit for a spirit," He took a sip and surveyed her once again with a pause. "You have a list?"

"Don't worry, demons aren't on it," Clara grinned, extracting a small chuckle from Crowley as he downed another gulp of whiskey. "Yet."

"You humans have too much time on your hands," Crowley replied with a scoff. Clara stirred her cocktail thoughtfully for a moment, her smile still in place. The thought crossed her mind that she should feel disturbed that she was actually having fun, feeling more relaxed than she had in ages. By right, she realised, she should _not_ feel safe with this man, but she couldn't bring herself to feel anything but. She shook her head slowly in amusement and then looked up at the demon king from under her lashes.

"You're actually quite sweet, for a demon."

Crowley choked on his scotch.

"I beg your pardon?"

Clara stifled a laugh at his horrified reaction and decided to continue teasing him. God knows he had done it to her enough times. It was her turn to make him flustered, or to at least see if it was even a possible feat.

"Well, you're clearly just doing this for my benefit," She raised an eyebrow almost flirtatiously and sipped her drink innocently. Crowley frowned.

"How so?"

"Demons don't need to eat or drink or sleep, right?" Clara tested, shifted slightly closer.

"All the most banal aspects of human existence, yes," Crowley leaned forward, his eyes narrowed cautiously. "Your point?"

"Can you even taste that?" Clara gestured to his scotch dubiously and Crowley looked down at it in surprise, her question catching him off guard. Clara studied him intently. He wasn't flustered, by he hadn't been expecting her question either. The demon shrugged.

"I've learned to," He frowned at the amber liquid inside the glass. "It's actually quite enjoyable. If I'm going to walk the face of this godforsaken Earth I might as well acquire a taste for the finer things in life," He paused. "But it has to be strong."

"A demon's only weakness," Clara grinned widely, shifting in her seat. "It takes a lot to get them drunk."

"Call it a weakness if you wish," Crowley smirked, downing the rest of his glass in one gulp and gesturing for another.

"I'll remember that for future reference," Clara smiled coyly, watching the mischievous spark in Crowley's eyes.

"And you say you're not a flirt."

Clara bit her lip, when instead she knew she should be biting her tongue. Flirting with the king of hell was as dangerous as it was irresistible. She couldn't seem to help herself. Fighting another blush, she took a quick gulp of her drink and stared defiantly at her hands.

"You're a right chancer, aren't you?" She sighed, a ghost of a smile playing around her lips.

"Darling, I'm the daringest devil you've ever met," Crowley raised his drink to hers, and she laughed as they clinked glasses.

She shouldn't be enjoying this as much as she was, but it became evident with every passing minute that she really genuinely _liked_ Crowley. She was enjoying his company, loving the way he kept her on her toes with his snarky comments and witty humour. Part of her brain was screaming that this was wrong, all wrong, but she shoved it aside. She deserved a break. She deserved to be able to do what she wanted for once.

"You're very good at getting into trouble," Crowley scrutinized her carefully, amusement dancing in his eyes. He almost looked impressed. "Please don't get yourself killed while you're with me. The Doctor would never understand."

"What's wrong with a little danger?" Clara grinned, edging closer to Crowley. "Normal is boring."

"Running away with a demon, dangerous, possibly, most definitely, very stupid," Crowley's eyes glinted as he looked at her. "Anything could happen."

"That's what I'm counting on," Clara felt a warm feeling shoot through her as Crowley smiled. A proper smile, not even his usual smirk. Why did the fact that she had managed to make a demon smile cause her to feel so happy?

Clara sighed and looked down at her drink thoughtfully. She was on her third one, and that was her pacing herself. She was completely losing track of time, and she didn't even care in the slightest.

"I must be an idiot. Good people are not supposed to go out for drinks with evil people," She tapped her fingers against the rim of her glass exasperatedly. "It's rule one of basic storytelling."

"Whatever you want to believe, love," Crowley downed his- What was that now, his fourth?- scotch, and Clara exhaled softly. She looked at him closely. He wasn't even showing any signs of becoming tipsy. Perks of being partially dead, she supposed. That got her thinking.

She cast a fleeting glance around her. The atmosphere in this bar was nice, it made her feel relaxed, and everyone was immersed in their own business. No chance of anyone listening in.

She leaned closer to Crowley who was currently nursing his fifth scotch and tapped his arm softly. He looked up in surprise. Clara blinked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She hadn't realised she had gotten so close to him, but it was too late to worry about that now.

"Hey, how does someone actually become a demon then?" She made sure to keep her voice quiet, though she was certain no one was eavesdropping and would accuse her a being a manic Satan worshipper. "Subtract love and compassion, add anger and hatred or something?"

Crowley raised his eyebrows and huffed.

"I wouldn't worry about the process, if I were you. I'd be more concerned about the result," He gave her a look that was halfway between pride and annoyance. "I still can't believe you _accidentally_ summoned three lower level demons."

Clara leaned back slightly and pursed her lips, the reminder of her stupidity sending a sharp shot of shame through her.

"I didn't think it through," She replied curtly, taking a quick sip of her drink.

"Apparently so," Crowley murmured. His eyes suddenly turned teasing and he smirked teasingly. "Still, I'm impressed at the lengths you'll go to get a date."

"I wasn't looking for a date!" Clara retorted too quickly, trying her hardest not to sound too defensive. "I honestly just wanted to shout at you."

"Bless. Such a charmer."

A sly smile curved across Clara's lips slowly and Crowley looked at her with a raised brow.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Clara beamed smugly. "You're a heartless demon and you're actually enjoying my company."

A ghost of a smirk played around Crowley's lips and Clara had to quickly snap herself out of her stupor when she realised she had been staring at them. She sat up quickly, gulping down the rest of her drink and trying to hide her blush.

"That's absurd," Crowley finally replied in a light mocking tone, his amusement evident as he decided to mess with her head. Teasing her seemed to be his favourite thing to do, much to Clara's infuriation. "Why would I enjoy the company of someone who could snap into control freak mode at any minute?"

"Why would I enjoy the company of someone who could snap someone's _neck_ at any minute?" Clara shot back quickly, and Crowley gave a casual shrug. "And for the last time, I am _not_ -"

"Blah blah blah, I know the drill. See? It happens at any moment," Crowley was clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting from her. "It's a lottery with you, isn't it, Teach?"

"Shut up."

"Yes, boss."

Clara found herself studying Crowley again, trying to be at least a tiny bit subtle about it. It was still strange seeing him without multiple chains restraining him from massacring everyone in sight. It was even stranger that he was simply sitting there, right beside her, and hadn't attempted to kill her yet. She could almost forget what he was, if she really tried. Somehow, she realised, she didn't have to try. She simply didn't care what he was.

Crowley was frowning slightly, as if there was something on his mind. Clara found herself wanting to know what it was that was bothering him. She was intrigued by him, she couldn't deny it. The demon looked about to say something, then seemed to think better of it and resumed his previous thoughtful expression, mouth clamped shut."

"What?" Clara asked softly, propping her elbow up and resting her chin on her hand to look at him.

Crowley met her gaze and hesitated. He was doing that thing again, the thing where appeared to be seeing more than just her, but her very soul itself. Finally, he spoke.

"You're out having a drink with a murderous demon, and you're okay with that?"

His eyes gave nothing away in regard to how he was anticipating her answer. Clara paused for a moment to think, deciding that honestly was the best policy. Not that Crowley had any virtues of his own.

"Yeah, fine," She replied finally with a nonchalant shrug. "Think I'm fine."

Crowley gave a short, sharp bark of a laugh. He looked about to reply, when his pocket buzzed. He frowned, retrieving his phone from his pocket as Clara watched with expectant eyes.

Crowley looked at the caller ID, swore, threw his eyes up to heaven and answered with a curt, "What do you _want_ , Moose?"

Clara raised her eyebrows and Crowley merely scowled as he listened to what the caller had to say. Clara assumed the person on the other end of the line was no pal of the king of hell's.

Crowley's expression changed suddenly from one of annoyance to one of interest and he leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with something akin to amusement.

"Is that right?"

His tone flipped like a switch from irritated to curious and mischievous as his interest clearly peaked. Clara widened her eyes and mouthed the word ' _what_ ' at him, her own curiosity growing. Crowley held up a finger to silence her, and Clara pouted.

"Well, as it so happens, she's actually right here with me."

Clara eyes were the size of dinner plates at this point and she began fidgeting. She desperately wanted to know what was going on, leaning closer to Crowley and straining to hear the voice at the other end of the line. Crowley heaved an exasperated sigh suddenly, reacting to something the caller had said.

"Now, now, why on _Earth_ would I lie?"

There was a pause and Clara could faintly hear accusing mutters emitting from the phone, though she couldn't make out what they were saying. Crowley tutted in annoyance, his expression one of lazy arrogance.

"Well, it looks like someone's managed an astonishingly good impersonation of her then."

" _Who?"_ Clara mouthed this time, and Crowley covered the mouthpiece for a brief moment before hissing the word _"Winchester"._

Clara gasped, immediately wondering why they were talking about her. How did they even know about her? Had the Doctor managed to find them after all? She was buzzing with questions, practically hopping up and down as she waited for Crowley to finish the call.

"No, I did not hurt her- _No,_ I'm not lying- Mother of sin, what is this, an intervention?" Crowley growled, clenching the phone a fraction tighter. "Of course, _Mother,_ we'll be there shortly. Toodles."

He sang the last words cheerily before hanging up the phone with an expression as if he wanted to wipe out an entire continent vivid on his face. He rolled his eyes.

"Bloody Winchesters, they seem to get their teeth into everything," He grumbled, pocketing the phone again.

"The hunters?" Clara breathed, wanting as many answers as possible in as little time as possible.

"Yes, Sam Winchester to be exact," Crowley replied airily, downing the last of his whiskey. "They're with the alien nurse."

"They're with the Doctor?!" Clara gasped, wondering fleeting how on Earth the Time Lord had managed to locate them. She hoped he hadn't scanned too many unfortunate unsuspecting Americans in his efforts. "So what do we do now?"

"We go to them," Crowley faked a smile before grimacing. Clara gave him a pitying glance, understanding why a demon wouldn't exactly be thrilled to have to converse with a pair of hunters. "Apparently, they need me too. Not just a taxi this time."

Clara opened her mouth to ask what they were actually needed for, when she realised it was probably better to just figure it out as they went along. Things never seemed to go to plan anyway, so why should she bother even imagining what they might be up to? She felt her sudden rush of excitement wane slightly as she finished the last of her drink. She hated to admit it, but she had enjoyed this.

"It's almost disappointing, isn't it?" The words were out of her mouth before she even realised she was going to say them, her tone soft. "Having to go back to all the drama. This was nice."

"For once, I think we agree on something," Crowley smiled wanly, giving his remnants of his whiskey a quick swirl before downing them. Clara smirked, letting her imagination run away with her for a moment.

"I say we leg it," She joked half-heartedly, a small part of her actually wishing they could. She laid her chin on the heel of her hand and smiled as she let her thoughts run away with her. "You demon zap us, I don't know, to Majorca or some place and we just stay there and forget about all our troubles over here."

Crowley chuckled at that, and Clara slowly snapped out of her pointless reverie. She seemed to be making a habit of becoming extremely comfortable around the demon, so much so that she was more herself with him than she was with almost anyone.

"You read too much," Crowley quipped back, standing up. Clara followed suit.

"You're right," She sighed lightly. She gave him a nudge. "Besides, it'd be boring in Majorca. Nice weather I guess, but where's the adventure in that?"

"Exactly," Crowley took her hand, and this time Clara couldn't ignore the jolt of electricity that sparked from their intertwined hands throughout her entire body. She held her breath as Crowley smirked down at her. "If you want to go somewhere hot, try Hell."

Clara was expecting the transition this time, and closed her eyes in advance, squeezing Crowley's hand tightly. She peeked open one eye slowly, just to check that they had in fact moved. The quick trip had been much smoother this time round, and she had barely felt it. Crowley was right, you did get used to it.

"Where are we?" She breathed, releasing Crowley's hand and taking a slow step forward, looking upwards at the tall desolate building in front of them. It appeared to be some sort of old warehouse, long forgotten by most, and the flimsy wooden doors that led to the interior were littered with all sorts of symbols that Clara had grown to recognise.

"We'll soon see," Crowley replied vaguely, striding past her and leading the way. "Come on."

"Wait!" Clara called out, jogging a few steps to catch up and grabbing his arm to jolt him in his steps. "Shouldn't we be at least a _little_ bit cautious? Worried, even? We don't exactly know what we're walking into here. And you're a demon."

The dark building had a cold, empty feel about it and it put Clara on edge, though she hated to admit her discomfort to Crowley. The demon simply shrugged.

"I'm not concerned. I'll leave that to you."

"I'm not _concerned_ , I'm just…" She paused, searching for the right word as they continued to walk and Crowley pulled open the door. "Careful."

"Good for you," Crowley smirked and held the door open for her in a grand gesture, motioning for her to proceed first. Clara rolled her eyes at him and walked through, deciding it was best to leave all caution behind them. Besides, the Doctor was here, wasn't he? She couldn't help to feel worried for Crowley though, a nagging feeling that caused her insides to curl in on themselves uncomfortably. She knew how badly demons could be treated, and she felt strangely protective of him even though she knew full well he was more than capable of looking after himself.

She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim light in the vast room. She heard the door shut behind her, the echo resonating off the walls and the high ceiling. The warehouse was mostly empty, and it took her all of two seconds to lay her eyes on the other people who were present there.

The first person she noticed was the Doctor.

"Doctor!" She exclaimed, feeling a smile spread across her face at seeing him. She observed him quickly, making sure he was alright. He looked exactly the same as she had last seen him, though he didn't seem as happy to see her as she was to see him. That was when she realised that he was looking past her, at Crowley who was approaching slowly, a half smirk in place on his confident face.

"Clara, step away from him," The Doctor warned quietly, taking a step towards them.

"Doctor," Crowley smiled warmly at the Time Lord, his voice bright and cheery. Clara could see right through the façade, right into the cold hardness of his eyes. "Wonderful day you're ruining, isn't it?"

The Time Lord didn't reply, and Crowley attention lapsed and moved on to another subject.

"Moose, Squirrel _,_ " He greeted brightly, moving to stand beside Clara. His smirk grew. "Is that an angel blade hidden up your sleeve, Castiel, or are you just happy to see me?"

It was then that Clara noticed the others in the room. Standing just to the left of the Doctor was a dark haired man clad in a long trench coat, glaring at Crowley with distrust etched across his face. Clara could now see that his hand was tightly curled around a long, shimmering blade that almost seemed to glow in an unearthly fashion. One look at this man's bright blue, suspicious eyes, and she knew he wasn't human.

Her eyes fell to the other two men, and her mouth dropped open.

"It's you!" She exclaimed loudly, pointing at the pair who exchanged look of equal shock and confusion. "You two! I saw you in the library!"

It all began to click into place now, everything, the names, the fact that these two were hunters…

Sam huffed a breath of disbelief and took a slow step forward, looking at Clara intently. He pointed a finger at her almost accusingly.

"You were _there_?"

"Yes!" Clara looked from one brother to the other, wondering how she hadn't put two and two together sooner. "Oh my stars!"

" _No_ , no, no, see, I think I would've remembered seeing you," Dean's eyes crinkled as he spoke, his tone flirtatious. Clara raised her eyebrows and folded her arms, giving him a challenging stare which shut him right up.

"Can it, Squirrel," Crowley growled through gritted teeth. Dean opened his mouth to protest, one arm held out in indignation when Sam silenced him, addressing Clara once more. He seemed almost oblivious to the confrontation between Dean and Crowley, more focused on Clara and what she had to say.

"And you know who we are?" He urged, as if testing her. Clara glanced up at Crowley quickly, then looked to the Doctor. She knew enough.

"Course I do," She replied confidently. "You're the ghostbusters!"

Crowley guffawed. Dean looked affronted. Sam huffed another little breath of disbelief and the man who Clara had not met, the one Crowley had greeted as Castiel, looked hopelessly confused.

"I believe I might understand that reference," A small smile of pure innocence began to grow on Castiel's face. "You are comparing Sam and Dean to the popular human Ghostbusters franchise, correct?"

Clara narrowed her eyes warily.

"Correct…?" She confirmed slowly, unsure what this man was on about. Castiel nodded in understanding and gave a loud laugh, looking much less intimidating than he had moment ago, his grip on the blade slackened as he relaxed contently.

"That is funny," He beamed at Dean, who rolled his eyes.

"Enough of the pleasantries," The Doctor snapped, looking ready to throw his sonic screwdriver at someone's head. He pointed a bony finger at Crowley. " _You_."

Crowley smirked and put his hands up in mock innocence.

"I surrender."

"You let her go _now_!" The Doctor hissed, his beady eyes darting from the demon to Clara and back again as if expecting some sort of explosion to happen at any minute.

"He's not my captor!" Clara blurted out in disbelief. She would have laughed had the Doctor not looked like he was about to burst a vein in his temple. She looked up at Crowley and smiled proudly. "He's my new hobby."

"Son of a bitch!" Dean threw his arms up in defeat before spinning around to jab a finger at Crowley. "Did you get someone to possess her? Is she possessed? Dammit, Crowley!"

"Honestly, Dean, what do you think I am?" Crowley smiled at him in a relaxed manner. "I solemnly swear it is all Clara up there," He tapped Clara's forehead abruptly, and she blinked in surprise. "Though she probably could use a bit of extra help sometimes."

"Hey!" Clara cried indignantly, giving Crowley a shove. "Shut up!"

"Did they-" Sam blinked hard, looked to Dean for confirmation, then returned his gaze to Clara and Crowley. "Did they just have a domestic?"

"What the bloody hell is going on?!" The Doctor's heavy Scottish accent resounded throughout the vast space, startling Clara.

"I believe this is the point where most humans sit down and make tea-"

"Shut up, Cas!" Dean and the Doctor yelled simultaneously, the Time Lord's booming voice overpowering Dean's so much that the hunter stepped back from him in shock.

"Told you he was a nutter," He muttered to Sam, who heaved the heaviest sigh known to man, demon or angel.

"What even is he?" Clara cried out in exasperation, pointing at Castiel.

"I am an angel of the Lor-"

"He's an angel," Dean cut in swiftly, his patience running dry. Clara blinked in astonishment. "But don't be fooled, most of them are just dicks with wings. But not our, Cas, right buddy?" He reached over and gave a confused and slightly disgruntled Castiel a firm clap on the shoulder. The angel looked startled, but managed an awkward nod of acknowledgment towards the hunter.

Clara looked up at Crowley, quickly shutting her mouth which she realised had been hanging open in shock for some time now.

"How much did I have to drink?" She whispered quickly and Crowley merely grinned.

"What is this, Eastenders meets Avengers?" The Doctor waved a hand around in disbelief, his eyebrows drawn together tightly. "Get a grip, people, there's a spaceship at stake here!"

"I told you, Sam, we should've kicked him to the curb the minute he said the word spaceship-"

"Oh, will all of you just _SHUT UP!"_ Clara yelled at the top of her lungs, her voice carrying on echoing throughout the room long after she'd opened her mouth. She took a deep breath to steady herself. "You all need to _shut. Up._ "

After a moment of stunned silence Dean let out a low whistle and Clara stopped him with a quick zipping motion across her lips, causing him to hang his head sheepishly.

"We all need to get on the same page," Clara looked around the room at every face, not caring about the fact that Crowley was never going to let her live this control freak moment down. "Now."

* * *

 **HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaa *laughter dies away in the distance***

 **Guys I'm sorry I don't even know what happened. This chapter started off pretty serious, next thing I'm getting all tired and it ended up as a huge joke. I laughed my way through writing it lol.**

 **I really think I lost it after ghostbusters.**

 **Gosh, I'm almost scared of the reviews I might get after this crazy chapter. But damn, it was fun to write. Fun fun fuuuuuuuuuuun**

 **Lol someone else needs to write a fanfic for this pairing because I am failinggggg LOL**

 **Okay, it's really definitely time for me to sleep now. What am I doing. Night night, my little impala drivers**


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm baaaaack :D God, this story is getting insane. I'm getting so carried away with the conversations these characters could have if they met xD**

 **Let me know what you think of this chapter!**

* * *

"Clara's right, it's time to get down to the matter at hand," The Doctor let his eyebrows do most of the talking, his glare fierce as his eyes swept around the room. "We all know why we're here, and it's because-"

"-Of an egomaniac who claims he's an alien and lost his jacked up phone box, yeah, we're fully aware," Dean was beginning to become impatient, seemingly fed up with the whole situation. He scoffed and looked around, addressing the rest of the party. "I mean, who is this dude anyway? ' _The Doctor'?_ Doctor what, Doctor who? This whole situation is giving me cramps, man."

Clara shifted closer to Crowley, sensing that this ordeal was going to take a while. She found comfort in being close to the demon, and instantly became more relaxed as she stepped closer beside him. She noticed Castiel's hawk-like eyes train on her as she moved, though he dropped his gaze immediately when she caught him looking.

"Yeah look, buddy, I don't mean to be rude here," Sam began with a guarded grimace, as if afraid he might touch a nerve. "But I'm still not sure why you keep insisting we help you with this. It's really none of our business."

The Doctor straightened abruptly, opening his mouth as if about to let loose an outraged cry, but Castiel intervened.

"As insect-like and unimpressive as he may appear, believe it or not this man and his blue box are actually part of the reason this planet is still intact," The angel piped up earnestly. He looked around with wide blue eyes almost nervously as everyone stopped to stare at him. Castiel cleared his throat. "He helps people, saves them from evil."

"I thought that was our job," Dean grumbled, folding his arms indignantly. Clara could've sworn he actually pouted. "And we don't even have a freaking time machine. All I've got is an overly sensitive nerd who needs a haircut and an impala."

"Hey, I'm the one who has to put up with your self-loathing ass while you refuse to talk about your feelings all the freaking time," Sam quipped back, shooting his brother a challenging glare.

"Ew, quit it, man," Dean shook himself with a grimace as if the idea of letting people know how you really feel was a feat worse than death.

Castiel ignored the minor squabble and turned his gaze to the Doctor, offering a small hopeful smile. He inclined his head towards Dean.

"He is somewhat similar to you, Dean," He continued thoughtfully as Dean made a face and scowled at the Doctor.

"Sorry, Gramps, but I'm nothing like you."

"What I'm trying to say," Castiel interrupted with a sigh before the Doctor could retort. "Is that he is also an exterminator of sorts."

"No, no, no," The Doctor burst out in defiance and horror, shaking a bony finger in indignant protest. "That's not me, that's those little tin can pepper shakers of dread and destruction, don't compare me to the Daleks. Ever."

"Okay, can we _please_ stop squabbling and get on with it?" Clara was beginning to feel on edge, sure that they were wasting precious time. She also felt exhausted, completely and utterly shattered. A lot had occurred since the last time she had managed to get a decent night's sleep.

"Well, we might as well try to tick something off the to-do list," Sam clapped his hands together with an expectant expression, the first to respond to Clara's words. "Who's got a plan?"

Crowley scoffed loudly, looking utterly disinterested with the entire situation.

"Why do you all care about this bloody Tardis so much anyway?" He spread his hands out in disbelief. "That miraculous machine of yours sounds overrated to me. If it's time travel you want, just screw it and make a deal. Who needs a measly little soul?"

"Stop promoting, Crowley," Sam sighed, giving the demon a look. Clara held her breath, hoping fervently that the demon didn't lose his already short temper. Crowley closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking as if he was on the edge of an outburst. He inhaled deeply and opened his eyes once more, slightly calmer than before much to Clara's relief.

"Fine, if you forget someone's birthday, use the damn thing but what else is it good for?" Crowley snapped, still on the verge of exasperation despite his attempt to stay in control of his frustration. "You had it, then you lost it, boo hoo big deal. There are other ways to travel. Ever heard of buying a plane ticket?"

"The Tardis isn't just a machine, she's… Important," The Doctor's voice trailed away hopelessly, as if finally seeing the futility of it all. Clara felt a surge of pity for him. "She has feelings, a personality, she's smart-"

"And I thought you were a nerd," Dean nudged Sam with wide eyes.

"The Doctor has a point," Clara bit her lip unsurely. "We need to fix that spaceship, and we need to do it before it's too late."

"But… It, well I mean it's cursed, right?" Sam was frowned, but appeared more serious about the ordeal than before. "We need to break the curse, cure the… Spaceship or whatever."

"Maybe the answers not to break the curse," Crowley spoke up suddenly, his tone light but his eyes hard and stony. "Maybe it's to kill it."

"To kill a curse?" Castiel frowned, unconvinced. "And how do you propose we do that, Crowley?"

"With the first blade, of course," The demon stated matter-of-factly and Dean bristled, his hand shooting to clutch the mark on his arm. Clara frowned, wondering what the strange red mark meant. Castiel looked more enlightened than before, but still seemed dubious.

"I'm not sure that would be a very good idea…" He eyed Dean nervously, his concern for the hunter clearly showing.

"Listen, I've been in that bloody phone box, I know the depth of the curse," Crowley growled and Clara felt a surge of guilt rush over her as she remembered his not so pleasant stay in the Tardis. Even though she had tried to help him, she still couldn't help but feel distressed as she recalled how much pain he had been in. She looked up at him meekly, but his eyes were fixed on Castiel, a fierce glow in their depths. "It's too far gone to cure it, we need to take more drastic measures."

"Seriously?" Dean grimaced, narrowing his suspicious eyes at Crowley. "You seriously believe that this will work?"

"Or is this just you trying to play us like you have so many times before with your own best interests at heart," Sam glared, clenching his hands into fists.

"Now boys, would I ever lie to you?" Crowley smirked innocently, making a waving motion with his hand to emphasise his point.

"Yes," They chorused in disbelief. Clara could've sworn she heard the phrase _'son of a bitch'_ being muttered under Dean's breath.

"Well, maybe I've had a change of heart," Crowley replied defiantly.

"That would almost be an acceptable excuse except for the fact that you 'don't have a _"friggin''_ heart, you bastard'," Castiel noted seriously. He turned to the Winchesters with a smile. "I believe that is something you would say."

"Right, Cas," Sam forced a smile at the angel and Dean offered a weak thumbs up. Clara shook her head slowly.

"So where _is_ this 'first blade'?" She aimed her question at Crowley.

"Now _that_ little nugget of information," He raised a finger with a smirk. "Is classified until further notice. I'm not giving away the location of the blade until I'm sure I'm going to get it back afterwards. Leaving it in his hands is stupidity at the highest level."

He pointed to Dean, and Clara frowned, her curiosity finally getting the better of her.

"Why, what's wrong with him?"

"He has the mark of Cain," The Doctor replied gravely, and Clara looked at him in surprise. "I've seen it once before on the very man himself. I'll admit I was impressed by him, he resisted for so long."

"Resisted what?" Clara whispered fearfully.

"So many questions," Crowley muttered wearily.

"That's what I'm here for, I'm the one who asks the questions," Clara retorted defiantly. "If you didn't have me, nothing would get done around here in terms of communication except for petty arguments. Now start answering!"

Crowley seemed amused by her minor outburst. His gaze flitted to Dean quickly before turning back to Clara.

"He gets that blade, he could suddenly decide that it's fun to massacre a whole town," Crowley explained with a gesture of his hands. "The mark has that effect. But, it can also be very useful. It can kill a lot of otherwise un-killable beings."

"You mean he's a psycho?" Clara squeaked, staring at Dean with wide eyes.

"Hey, come on, enough now," Dean burst out indignantly. "I'm right here!"

"Yes, unfortunately," Crowley grumbled, throwing his eyes up to heaven. "Now then, we have a plan. And you say I've never given you anything. Who's in?"

"I don't trust the demon," The Doctor answered abruptly, firmly. "I am not going to take orders from a soldier of the Devil."

"Tell me, Doctor, is it demons you despise or soldiers?" Crowley glowered threateningly, earning a low growl of anger from the Doctor.

"This is no time for fighting!" Castiel insisted. "Although in usual circumstances, I would be more than willing to kill Crowley with no hesitation, right now we actually do need to listen to him."

"You have no sense of poetry," Crowley raised an eyebrow at the angel who frowned.

"Well, I am not a poet-"

" _Okay,_ okay!" Clara raised her voice in order to be taken note of. "Everyone shut up and listen. If we're going to kill this curse, we need the blade, right?"

She allowed her eyes to rest on Crowley, watching the demon's expression intently as he shrugged.

"You skipped the first step," He replied vaguely.

"Which is?" Clara prompted impatiently.

"The blade is somewhere safe," Crowley's tone was guarded as if reluctant to reveal the information to the small gathering. "To get to it you need a key."

"Okay then, give us the damn key," Dean piped up.

"Can't. It's in Hell."

"Of course, of freaking course," Dean threw his arms up and rolled his eyes.

"Crowley is the only one who can retrieve the key…" Castiel mused, stating the obvious as he remained deep in thought for a moment. Dean practically growled in response.

"That's just peachy."

"No, I don't believe there is any fruit involved in the matter," Castiel frowned, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he tried to make sense of Dean's words.

"Oh for the love of- This angel is more clueless than Clara is!" The Doctor burst out in exasperation.

"Hey!" Clara protested.

"What are we going to do?" The Doctor scanned his eyes around the room in hopeless disbelief. "Am I the only being of any intelligence here?"

"That kind of talk won't win you any favours, Doc," Sam warned in a light-hearted tone, though Clara could tell he was being serious.

"Do you want my bloody help or not?!" Crowley yelled and Clara jumped in surprise as a light above their heads flickered and exploded with a loud crash. She blinked, attempting to adjust her eyes to the light which was now even dimmer than before.

"Great, now we're blind as well as clueless!" The Doctor roared and laughed humourlessly. "What a team we make, eh?"

"Don't worry," Crowley spat out through gritted teeth. "You didn't need the light anyway."

A miniscule spark suddenly ignited, transforming into a rapidly moving stream of fire which quickly grew into a wall of roaring flames that lit up the entire room. Clara felt her heart jump to her throat and grabbed Crowley's sleeve instinctively.

"Don't," She urged him quietly. "Calm down, it's okay."

Crowley showed no signs of having heard her words, but Clara knew instinctively that he was mulling it over in his head.

"I don't like conflict," Castiel sighed heavily. Sam pulled at his collar uncomfortably as the heat from the ever growing flames took effect.

"Okay, last time he said that he dropped the freaking word of God," Dean has to raise his voice to be heard above the roaring fire. "This is it, it's over. Crowley cut it out. Cas, don't even think about zapping out of here. Doctor, shut your pie hole."

Clara dropped her hand from Crowley's sleeve and grabbed his hand instead, running finger over his clenched fist until he loosened it slightly and the fire slowly began to die out, finally extinguishing with a soft whoosh. Clara breathed a sigh of relief and released his hand reluctantly. Crowley looked silently furious.

"Okay, I think we need to discuss this back at the bunker," Sam insisted, running a hand though his long hair in agitation. "Cas, you go first and take off the warding sigils that keep demons out."

"Sam-"

"Just this once," Sam promised earnestly. "I hate to say it, but we need Crowley on this. Once he's in, we'll put up the wardings again so he can't smoke out and ditch us and no other unwelcome visitors can get in."

After a pause and a reluctant expression, there was a soft flap of wings, and Castiel was gone.

"This is a one-time offer, Crowley," Dean warned sternly. "We ain't no hotel."

"Acknowledged," Crowley smiled brightly.

Castiel reappeared without warning and approached Sam and Dean.

"It's done," He stated bluntly.

"Okay, I'm not travelling with that demon again, not happening," The Doctor strode up to Castiel. Dean heaved a sigh.

"Fine," He relented. "Cas, you take the Doctor and Sam. I'll travel with demon airways."

Clara laughed softly and took Crowley's hand again. For the first time in too long, he finally looked down at her. His expression softened, no trace of anger left in his eyes. Clara smiled as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Clara watched as he tapped Dean on the shoulder and quickly closed her eyes as they left the warehouse. Her stomach seemed to handle it much better this time, despite her exhaustion. The motion still affected her though, and she felt slightly dizzy for a brief moment. When she opened her eyes again, she let out a small exclamation of pleasant surprise.

Dean grunted and staggered away. She guessed he didn't quite have the stomach for demon travel either.

"Nice gaff, Squirrel," Crowley made a low hum of approval as he surveyed the place. "Much better when I'm not being held prisoner in your basement."

Clara paused in her attempts to survey the surroundings and raised an eyebrow, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Crowley.

"You really do tend to make a habit of getting on people's bad sides," She noted with a teasing smile.

"It comes with being a demon," Crowley smirked as the remaining three appeared in the room.

There was a warm glow to this room, a welcome contrast from the dimly lit glow of the warehouse. The place was by no means a house, but it still looked quite homely, as if someone lived here and had tried their best to make it their own. The room they were in was large, with a huge table in the centre, magazine and empty food containers strewn around the place. A stairway led to the next floor, and Clara found herself wanting to explore the rest of this bunker.

"The demon sigils are back in place," Castiel informed Dean before turning to address Crowley. "You're staying here until we solve this problem."

"Guess I'll have to make myself at home them," Crowley replied with a sly smile, nonplussed.

Castiel frowned at Crowley as the Winchesters began to make themselves busy around the room, picking books off nearby shelves and spreading them out on the table. Dean snatched the sonic screwdriver out of the Doctor's hand with a glare as he attempted to scan various objects in the room.

Castiel was eyeing Clara's hand, his eyebrows furrowed. Clara shuffled self-consciously, holding it protectively. It was healing up quite well since Crowley had helped her, but it was still visible and stung slightly sometimes, though she chose to ignore it.

"Can I see?" The angel asked, stepping forward and holding out a hand expectantly. Clara swallowed, suspicious as she nodded dubiously and slowly extended her hand out, palm upwards.

"Crowley already-"

"I know," Castiel interrupted and touched her palm gently and out of the corner of her eye she saw Crowley scowl. Clara gasped in shock as her palm became good as new, maybe even better, no trace of any wound left to show. She flexed her fingers experimentally, pleasantly surprised when she felt absolutely no pain.

"Wow," She murmured, taking a step back and examining her hand in awe. "Thank you."

"There are some things even the king of hell cannot manage," Castiel smiled with a twinkle in his eye as he looked at Crowley "And one of them is using his powers for something useful."

Crowley made a face and grunted, unimpressed. Clara opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted.

"So are we saying that Crowley can go down to hell, retrieve the key so we can find and acquire the first blade, then go kill the curse that is infecting the Tardis?" The Doctor tried sceptically.

"Pretty much, yeah," Sam replied, sitting down and opening his laptop.

"Anything I can do?" Clara folded her arms and raised her eyebrows hopefully. She wanted to make herself useful. She was as much a part of this as anyone else here. "I'm not just going to sit around doing nothing while he goes down to Hell and you guys go hunting a blade."

"You can come with me," Crowley turned to her with a sudden spark in his eyes, a smirk dancing around his lips. His expression was filled with mischief.

"Come with you…" Clara trailed off, waiting in anticipation for him to finish her sentence and confirm what she suspected he meant. A half smile ghosted around her lips, waiting to grow and light up her face.

"To Hell," Crowley grinned and Clara felt herself smile before she could contain it. It was a crazy idea, insane, in fact, but it was also an adventure. An adventure filled with twists and turns of danger and excitement with the one man she wanted to spend time with more than anyone else, and she was up for it.

"No," The Doctor intervened sternly. "No way in heaven or hell."

Castiel and Crowley exchanged a quick glance at his words before Crowley forced an innocent smile which masked the murderous intent he was clearly feeling onto his face and looked at the Doctor.

"I think the lady can speak for herself," His words made up Clara's mind for her.

"Yeah, you know what?" She smiled, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through her tired bones. "I think I might just go down to Hell. See what all the fuss is about."

"You can't-"

"Shut up, Moose," Crowley snapped his fingers and Sam looked perplexed as he tried to speak but couldn't get the words out, struggling silently. Clara's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Neat trick," She whispered in awe.

"You morons are suspicious of my motives, why not send someone to keep an eye on me?" Crowley gestured to Clara. He smirked. "I promise I won't let any harm come to her. I haven't so far."

"Oh, well there's a treasure," Dean grumbled, still not convinced. "We've learned not to trust you, Crowley."

"It's not up to you, it's up to Clara," Crowley shrugged nonchalantly and snapped his fingers again. "Thoughts, Samantha?"

Sam cleared his throat and glared at Crowley angrily. He huffed, hand still at his neck defensively.

"I think we should sleep on it," He fianlly sighed tiredly. "This is a big thing, guys, we shouldn't go rushing into this. Cas, keep an eye on Crowley while we humans get some sleep. Doctor, you…"

"He needs sleep too," Clara stated firmly, eyeing the Doctor up challengingly, daring him to protest.

The exhausted Time Lord looked as weary as he felt, and finally gave a half-hearted nod of agreement.

"Right, great," Dean muttered sarcastically. "Cas, please make sure that douchebag behaves."

"As always," Crowley smiled sweetly.

"Son of a bitch," Dean grunted wearily, beginning to ascend the stairs. The rest of the party followed, Clara casting one last glance back at Crowley before she joined them.

The room they offered Clara was basic enough, but still much nicer than the room she had barely got a couple of hours of broken sleep in at the motel. Sam, the friendlier of the two brothers, had kindly told her to help herself to any clothes in the wardrobe, apologising for the fact that they were probably men's. Clara had shrugged it off, unconcerned. They would make good pyjamas, she decided as she picked out an oversized flannel shirt and baggy pants.

She was exhausted, but her mind was still reeling with the aftermath of recent events. Another aspect of the situation she deemed herself unable to cease thinking about was her potential trip to Hell. Did she really have it in her to go down there? As she thought about it, lying on the bed and staring at the dark ceiling, she realised she wasn't afraid of the prospect. She would be with Crowley, and though it went against every fibre in her being, she trusted him.

She needed sleep, her body was aching from lack of rest, but after a couple of hours of tossing and turning and staring at the blank ceiling, wishing it was stars she was looking at, she realised she wasn't getting anywhere. She took a deep breath and hopped off the bed silently, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around herself securely for warmth in the cold room. She padded softly to the door and opened it slowly, peering out into the dark hallway outside. From down the hall she could hear the soft snores of either Sam or Dean. She knew it couldn't be the Doctor, he never snored, though she hoped he was also asleep getting some well-earned rest.

"Crowley?" She tried tentatively in a hushed whisper. She had no idea where he was or if he had super sensitive hearing or anything, but she decided to try. "Crowl-"

"At your service."

Clara gasped in fright and spun around to face the voice from behind her, finding herself looking into the smirking face of the demon.

"Don't _do_ that!" She attempted to catch her breath, a hand on her chest as she entered the room again and shut the door softly behind her out of habit.

"What? You're the one who called, genius," Crowley raised his eyebrows as he looked her up and took and took in her dishevelled appearance, wrapped tightly in a blanket. Clara blushed and quickly tried to flatten her untamed hair, messy from tossing and turning in her fruitless attempts at sleep.

Crowley chuckled and stepped closer to her, reaching a hand out tentatively and stroking her hair softly. He gave a small smile and let his hand drop as Clara held her breath.

"It looks nice like that," He murmured almost thoughtfully. Clara allowed herself to smile shyly, something she hardly ever did. She was _not_ shy, but there was something about Crowley that made her heart beat so hard it felt as if it would burst from her chest.

"I couldn't sleep," She noticed her voice was shaky and coughed softly, wandering back over to the bed and curling up, her back against the headboard. When Crowley made no move to approach, his expression perplexed, she laughed and patted the bed next to her.

"Come on, I don't bite," She grinned as she mirrored his words from when they had first met. It seemed so long ago now. Crowley chuckled softly as he noticed, remembering the choice of words as he walked over to the edge of the bed.

"You know I don't sing lullabies, don't you?"

"I wouldn't have thought so," Clara almost laughed at the image of the demon singing her to sleep.

Crowley seemed almost cautious as he sat beside her, leaning against the headboard as she was.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" He murmured quietly after a moment's comfortable silence. He tilted his head slightly to look down at her, curious. Clara shifted slightly in her blanket, blinking up at him.

"Thinking."

"About?"

"A lot of things, really," She whispered, almost afraid to meet his eyes. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Talking to me usually seems to get you in trouble," Crowley teased with a small chuckle and Clara couldn't help but laugh along with him at the irony of it. "Did you want to talk about anything specific?"

"I… I suppose I just wanted you here," She corrected, feeling that her answer was now specific enough. She raised her eyes to meet his and sat up a little straighter so she could get closer to him. "And, Crowley?"

"Yes?" Crowley blinked and froze as Clara touched his face gently, running a hand across his cheek softly. Her heart was beating faster than ever now, too fast. She took a deep breath to calm herself down. Now was not the time to let her emotions get the best of her.

"Thank you," She whispered, leaning in and kissing his cheek softly. She pulled back and bit her lip nervously as Crowley stared at her with wonder in his eyes. "For everything."

"Don't thank me too soon," He murmured softly as he recovered himself, his eyes gentle. "We still have a lot to go through. This journey is far from over."

"Good," Clara replied fiercely, and Crowley smiled. Clara shuffled down slightly further in her blanket and tucked her head down so she could rest it on Crowley's chest.

"Stay," She ordered firmly, her voice as soft as the wind but still strong. She felt Crowley chuckle.

"Yes, boss."

She smiled and curled into him, pressing herself closer and feeling content.

"I still think you're the best at healing, by the way," She smiled smugly, waiting for his response. "You know, for a demon."

"For a demon," Crowley sighed and shuffled restlessly. Clara frowned as she sensed a sadness in his tone.

"I don't care what you are," She located one of his hands in the dark and held it in hers gently.

"You should."

His voice was a pained whisper, and Clara felt her heart ache. She squeezed his hand in comfort.

"Shut up," She whispered in return. "I do what I want."

Crowley laughed at that, running his thumb across her hand softly. Clara closed her eyes with a smile, feeling accomplished at having made him laugh. She wondered briefly at what point she had become unable to bear it when he was in pain, emotionally or otherwise. Part of her wondered if it was from the very start.

"Can I really go with you to Hell?" The words tasted foreign on her tongue, such a strange thing to ask someone, she thought. But everything was strange these days, and she had no memory of what normal was. "I mean… Hell's actually… Real?"

"What, you think I strode through the pearly white gates with a flap of my angelic wings? Where do you think I came from Clara?" Crowley scoffed. "Of course Hell is real."

"Then I want to see it," She noticed Crowley's hand still suddenly. She readjusted herself so she could look up at his face. "What?"

"Aren't you scared?" He murmured, his tone guarded as he looked at her. He hesitated, clenching his jaw. "You must be."

"If you say nothing bad will happen to me down there, I'll believe you," Clara dodged the question, unsure how to answer it directly. She paused, almost fearfully. "Will I be okay?"

"I won't let anything bad happen to you," He answered gruffly. "I promise."

"Then I'm not afraid," Clara smiled, moving down to nestle into him again. She snuggled into him and Crowley finally begrudgingly wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm not a blanket," He grumbled half-heartedly as Clara pressed herself closer to him.

"You're _my_ blanket," She replied with a grin, curling into him as he sighed heavily.

"Get some sleep," He ordered softly and Clara gave a small yawn in response. Truth be told, she didn't want to sleep anymore. She wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as she could, knowing it might not come again for a long time, if ever.

Despite her efforts, she couldn't help but close her heavy eyelids. She felt so much more relaxed now that Crowley was here, she knew she was going to drift away quickly.

The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the feeling of Crowley's arms around her.

* * *

 **Awh, I love writing the fluff :') But my favourite thing to write is these insane conversations between the characters xD I'm sorry, I'm getting out of control here.**

 **If you have the time, I'd love if you'd review and leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or anything is welcome :) Just so I can know how I'm doing with the story in your opinion and if I need to improve anything :)**

 **Thank you so much for reading and for the reviews you've been leaving!**

 **I LOVE YOU GUYS**


	12. Chapter 12

**I've just realised how much I've missed writing! So sorry for the long wait, I realise that this chapter is waaaay overdue, I've just been so busy. Anyway, I hope it's worth the wait :D**

* * *

Clara was comfortable. More comfortable than she had been in ages, in fact. Which made the fact that she was being poked and prodded even more aggravating.

She groaned in groggy annoyance, eyes still squeezed tightly shut, reluctant to break away from the promise of peace and rest, trying to hold on to sleep before it slipped away for good and she had to face the inevitable reality. A gentle murmur of voices nearby steadily increased to a more insistent hum as the fog of fatigue began to lift and she pulled the pillow over her head in protest, hoping to block out the noise and catch a few more minutes sleep.

"- I mean honestly, has she slipped into a coma or what?"

A firm hand shook her shoulder roughly and another voice joined the first as she curled up into a ball protectively. Just a few more minutes.

"Come on, Crowley, hurry up and wake her. We have to go back downstairs before the Doctor throws another lampshade at Castiel's head."

"Shut up, Moose. It's bad enough you feel the need to supervise my every move, I shouldn't have to put up with listening to your tedious whining along with it. Remind me again, when is it that I'm eligible for parole?"

Unwelcome cold air hit Clara suddenly as the duvet was suddenly whipped off her and she squeaked indignantly. She rubbed her eyes, disgruntled and agitated.

"Alright, alright!" She grumbled, squinting against the light in the room that was suddenly far too bright and sitting up. "I'm awake… Just about."

"Took your bloody time, Sleeping Beauty," Crowley grunted, rolling his eyes impatiently. He turned away sharply, offering no further explanation and made to leave. Clara opened her mouth to issue some sort of retort but her sleep addled brain refused to cooperate and she merely lapsed into a yawn. Crowley clicked his fingers at Sam, who was leaning against the doorway and watching the exchange with an amused expression. "Come on then, Rapunzel, back to business. Hurry up and pull yourself together, Clara. We've got a little hell to raise."

Clara stared after him with a bemused expression as he disappeared through the door, nonchalantly calling over his shoulder, "And dress for hot weather, love!"

"Well good morning to you too!" She called after him with a pout, still feeling groggy from being woken so abruptly. "Rude," She whispered under her breath. Sam raised his eyebrows apologetically.

"Sorry about that," He grinned sheepishly. "But if you don't get up now, I have a feeling the apocalypse is going to take place downstairs."

Clara winced as she heard a shout and a crash from somewhere below them, followed by Dean's voice swearing loudly. Why the group of them couldn't all just get along, she would never understand.

"Right, gotcha," She swung her legs over the side of the bed and went about finding socks as Sam gave another sympathetic grimace and left with a shrug, shutting the door behind him. Her thoughts began to race as she remembered what they were planning on getting themselves into, and her heart jumped as she recalled with a start that she had the option of going to see Hell for herself. Just the idea of it was terrifying, but an equal amount of excitement combatted that fear. It was an opportunity Clara just couldn't miss. Catching sight of herself in the mirror as she struggled to get dressed and fix her dishevelled appearance, she froze.

"God…" She breathed in horror, attempting to flatten down her wild hair. She cringed at the thought of being seen looking so messy. She paused with a frown, suddenly remembering that Crowley hadn't been in the bed with her when she was woken up. He must've left while she was still asleep. She couldn't help but wonder how long he had stayed with her after she had drifted off. She smiled a little at the thought, managing to tame her hair into more of a sleek shape. Finally, satisfied that she looked presentable, she scurried down the spiralling stairs, hoping fervently that no one had attempted to kill each other in her absence.

"Everyone still in one piece?" She grinned, swinging around the door as she entered the room, feeling much more energised than she had prior. Heads turned in her direction at her chirpy voice, each face still looking agitated from their bout of quarrelling. Something halfway between a scoff and a laugh sounded from the corner, and Clara glanced over to see the Doctor spread his hands wide and spin around on the swivel chair he was currently seated in.

"Ah, the mediators here," He exclaimed sarcastically. "What a relief."

Clara cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side in amusement. Whatever aspect of their plan of action they had been arguing about before her arrival must have been serious to put him in such a foul mood. Crowley cleared his throat dramatically, his face the picture of exasperation.

" _Well_ in answer to your question, Castiel here seems to be missing his _brain_ , but apart from that, yes, we're all just dandy," Crowley eyed the angel with a vicious scowl from where he was leaning against the table, drumming his knuckles on the wood impatiently.

"What's the problem?" Clara asked hesitantly, raising a brow inquisitively. She looked from the demon to the angel and back again with a questioning shrug. Castiel took a deep breath, shifting uncomfortably.

"I, um, I don't think it is wise to trust Crowley on this," Cas looked solemn, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. He looked to Dean for assistance. "There's too much at stake here to be 'placing all our eggs in one basket' as one might say."

He eyed Crowley suspiciously as the demon tutted.

"I have to agree with you on this one, Cas," Dean added warily, shoulders squared. "We know from experience that working with the King of Hell is just asking for trouble."

"Are you forgetting about the perks that come with working with said King of Hell?" Crowley snapped, his tone one of exasperation mingled with slight disbelief. "How else do you muppets expect to get the key to the box the blade is locked in? Pray? Make a deal? Hope that someone will stick a stamp on it and sent it on its merry way to you?" His expression turned smug. "Face the music, people. You need me."

"Okay, before any of you decide to find a flaw in his argument," Clara held a hand up, scanning the faces of those in front of her to maintain their attention just long enough for them to hear her out. "You don't need to worry about him going rogue and doing something evil and demon-like," She raised her head determinedly, knowing all too well how her next words were going to go down. "I'll be going with him."

The Doctor snorted.

"Over my dead past the point of regeneration body."

Clara sighed. His reaction was no surprise. She looked to Crowley for help, but he seemed to be enjoying watching her flailing around, trying to fight her corner by herself. She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at his carefree, mischievous expression. She looked back to the Doctor, fiddling with her sleeves.

"It's not exactly an infallible plan, I know, but-"

"Clara, we can't let you go down there," Sam looked at her earnestly, his eyes pleading. "Seriously, we've been to Hell and back, quite literally, and it's not the most pleasant experience."

"Ah yes, but you boys didn't have the pleasure of being escorted around my humble abode by the _King_ himself," Crowley pushed away from the table and shoved his hands into his pockets with a confident smirk. "I'll make sure she gets the VIP treatment."

He winked at Clara, causing her to roll her eyes in response. The Doctor untangled himself from the swivel chair and shook his head in disbelief.

"Clara, Clara, _Clara_. Do you- Do you seriously want me to list the pros and cons of going on this suicide mission? Because I will."

"Doctor-"

"Pros- Easy, there are none. Cons- Number one, you could die. Number two, you _will_ die-"

"Honestly, Doc, I'd rather scrape the paint off the entire White House with a toothpick than listen to you go on and _on_ about things that no one really cares about," Crowley clapped his hands loudly, interrupting the Doctor mid rant much to the Time Lord's chagrin. "Now, Clara. Heads or tails?"

"What?" Clara blinked at him, puzzled, but curious. Crowley smiled knowingly, retrieving something small and golden from his pocket.

"Alright, I'll call it. Heads, you take the highway to Hell with yours truly," He indicated to himself with a smug smirk. "Tails… You stay here and wish it had landed on heads."

Clara's heart leapt into her mouth as he tossed the coin, the gold glinting as it spiralled through the air before he snatched it again as it fell, slapping in onto his hand. He raised his hand a fraction and squinted over exaggeratedly as he took a peek.

"Well, would you look at that," He winked at Clara, and she felt a rush of excitement course through her veins. "Heads. Can't argue with fate, boys."

She failed to stop the wide smile from spreading across her face.

"You seriously just let _fate_ decide that?" Dean glared at him, shaking his head in bemusement.

"No, I would've taken her with me anyway," Crowley smiled brightly, and Clara couldn't help but grin.

"Well, this'll be an adventure and a half!" She laughed heartily and bounded over to Crowley, latching onto his arm, bubbling with nervous energy. The Doctor clenched his hands into fists, and Clara sighed.

"Doctor, this is our best chance of fixing the Tardis, you know that," She urged softly, pleading with her eyes. The Doctor shook his head slowly, but his expression seemed more resigned.

"If you let anything happen to her, Crowley-"

"Oh, pardon me, I forgot to wrap her up in cotton wool and bubble wrap," Crowley rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Don't worry about her, she'll be safe with me."

"I'm a big girl now, Doctor," Clara smiled gently. "I'll be fine."

"I'm not happy about this," The Doctor muttered darkly, staring daggers at Crowley.

"Stop looking at me like that, Doc, I think I might burst into flames," Crowley raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. He looked down at Clara, his mouth curving into a mischievous grin. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," She bit her lip, suddenly apprehensive. Was she sure she really wanted to be doing this? She didn't have time to mull it over. Crowley grinned, taking hold of her hand.

"No turning back now, darling."

She gasped, feeling her stomach twist sickeningly as the demon snapped his fingers and she held onto Crowley tightly, clamping her eyes shut. She wasn't even a hundred percent sure that her insides were still inside her body as her stomach churned uncomfortably, far worse than travelling by 'demon airlines', as Dean had put it, had ever felt before. When she sensed that they were on solid ground again, she opened her eyes warily but didn't release Crowley from her vice-like grip. She breathed heavily.

"Could've warned me about the rough crossing," She laughed shakily, her voice wavering as she swayed slightly. He closed her eyes again briefly, trying to steady herself.

"Sorry, crossing between dimensions is a bit more unsettling than moving from one country to another."

She could hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him to confirm.

"That's one way of putting it. I feel like I've been hit by a bloody bus."

"Ah- Language. This is a place of reverence."

Clara scoffed. "It's hardly a place of- Oh my stars, we're in Hell, aren't we?"

She gasped at the realization, looking up at Crowley's amused expression in shock. She half expected him to appear in front of her as the swirling red smoke that she had witnessed him as before. She grabbed him by the suit lapels suddenly, looking at him intensely with a half-smile on her face as excitement fluttered in her stomach, searching his dark eyes.

"Are we really… Is this actually…"

Crowley smiled, a real, genuine smile that made Clara grip his suit just a little bit tighter as he placed his hands on her waist gently.

"Welcome to Hell, darling."

* * *

 **Hope that was at least a little bit enjoyable to read! I'm so glad I started writing again, I really missed this.**

 **Next few chapters will be much more exciting I promise! Run you clever boy and remeMBER TO LEAVE A REVIEW FOR LIL OLD ME TO LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKED IT OR NOT AYY :D**


	13. Chapter 13

**As promised, next chapter is here! Had a lot of fun writing this one, I'm starting on the next chapter already :D Damn it feels good to write again!**

 **Huge thanks to all my reviewers, I must look like an idiot with the big fat smile I have on my face when I read your reviews! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING. You people keep me going, especially you Linaelly, SwingingOnAStar, ClariartyShippers, Deep And Lovely Dark, THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR STICKING WITH ME ALL THIS TIME, YOUR REVIEWS ON MY LAST CHAPTER WERE AMAZING**

 **Btw Linaelly, there's a little French phrase hidden in this story pour toi**

 **Anyway, hope you like this one guys!**

* * *

It was dark, it was grim, it was bitterly cold, and it was possibly the least visually appealing place that Clara had ever set foot in during all her travels, but she couldn't help but feel entranced by it.

The bleak corner of Hell that they were currently standing in was quiet, almost desolate, and she shivered as she cast a quick glance around, struggling to take in her surroundings. Not that there was much to see. They were in the middle of what appeared the be a dimly lit tunnel with glistening high stone walls on either side and when Clara craned her neck to make out what was at the end of it, she found that all she could see was darkness.

"Are you absolutely positive that you can handle this?" Crowley turned her around swiftly and prodded her in the right direction, a teasing glint in his eyes as his smooth voice echoed and resonated off the walls almost eerily, mocking her repeatedly. "I can't have you showing me up in front of my minions."

Clara gave an indignant scoff, disregarding his concerns flippantly.

"Course I can handle this you big muppet," She slapped his arm playfully. "I'm tougher than I look. Hell, a big pile of essays to correct… It's all the same thing really."

"Well, now that I've jeopardized my reputation as a heartless monster by showing concern for your wellbeing, rule number _one_ ," Crowley held up a finger to establish his point, his other hand on the small of her back to guide her forward. Their steps echoed against the ancient stone pathway as they walked. It was the only other sound except for their voices and the distant roar of fast-moving wind above them. "Do what I say at all times. Rule number _two_ , don't do anything the other demons say. Ever. Got it?"

Clara gave a stiff salute. "Yes, boss."

"Good."

"Ooooh," Clara sucked in a deep breath through her teeth, widening her eyes in mock shock. "Good? That word being spoken down here in Hell? You watch your tongue, Mr. Crowley, that's treason. Oh _wait_ …"

She feigned mock realisation as if the truth of what he was had only just dawned on her. Crowley rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue impatiently as she laughed.

"These snide little mocking comments I will tolerate, but if you start calling me ' _Your Majesty'_ we're going to have a problem."

Clara bit her tongue against another teasing remark, but she could see the amusement in Crowley's smirk as they walked.

There was a strange atmosphere there, one that Clara couldn't quite pinpoint. A slight twinge of foreboding, maybe? Almost as if an invisible, ominous shroud was draped over the entire place. It felt colder, instead of hotter, like she would have expected and her breath formed a cloud of fog in front of her when she exhaled steadily. The air tasted bitter, almost like copper. She failed to suppress a shiver. She should have known that it wouldn't be all laughter and sunshine. Getting there had, after all, almost caused her stomach to make a hasty exit from her body through her throat, and she had been half certain her insides would become her outsides. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting really, but she had thought there would be more… Chaos.

"Don't let my demons push you around. Not that you would, bossy little control freak that you are," He carried on briskly before Clara could object to his words. A small pinprick of worry ignited in her stomach at the thought of the other demons. She knew she was safe with Crowley, but she didn't exactly have a good track record with the wicked spirits. "But at the same time don't become besties with them or anything, it's bad for business. You have a tendency of wrapping people around your little finger and I can't have you corrupting any of my evil, twisted souls."

Clara felt a wide grin spread across her face at his words. This was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Are you implying that I have _you_ wrapped around my little finger?" Clara skipped to quicken her pace so she could get ahead of him and see his face more clearly. Her grin was still plastered on her face in way that made her sure that there was a cheeky glint in her eyes as Crowley slowed his pace dubiously. Clara was now standing directly in front of him, testing him, walking backwards slowly. "Don't worry, I will handle your demons professionally. Pinky promise."

She held out her little finger, her grin widening more than she had thought possible. Crowley gave a short, sharp bark of a humourless laugh, unimpressed. He reached out his two hands and folded Clara's finger back into place, enclosing her fist between his palms. He raised an eyebrow with a weary expression that screamed a sarcastic, _'really?'_ , and slowly released her.

"Maybe next time, then," Clara smiled brightly, probably enjoying this more than she should. She spun around and began walking forwards again, feeling lighter than she had before. Something about being here with Crowley just felt… Right. It was just a feeling, something deep inside her that she couldn't exactly put into words. In a way, she didn't want to be able to explain it, because the reality that she might be feeling… _Something_ for a demon was just too terrifying to admit, even to herself. So she would settle for this, this _feeling_ that, though she couldn't completely comprehend it, she was absolutely certain that she didn't want it to go away no matter how wrong it was. She paused suddenly and looked back, another hopeful smile gracing her lips.

"So here I am, actually getting to see your place of business," She fell into step beside him again, peering up at him inquisitively. She smirked. "Does that make me special, then? Part of the team? What, do I get to pick out which tie you wear to your next demon rendez-vous?"

"Oh, execute me now."

Clara laughed heartily, the sound bouncing off the walls and coming straight back to her as if rejecting the unfamiliar noise that was seldom heard here. As they approached what appeared to be the end of the long passageway, Clara recognised the shape of a large, bolt ridden door materialise out of the gloom. Instead of feeling relief at the end of their journey, a wave of apprehensiveness washed over her. Her smile waned and faded slightly. She had to be careful, especially when other demons were involved.

"Just one more thing before you go storming in there, Clara," The use of her name got her attention more than the fact that he had just grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him. "I know you're tough as nails and all that, but don't forget who I am and where we are. This is Hell, and you might see some things you don't like. If you want to leave, at any time, just tell me. Understood?"

Clara's breath caught in her throat, but she choked down the fear. She would be fine, she trusted Crowley. She forced a smile onto her face and poked him in the chest lightly.

"What, can't stand the heat get out of Hell, is that it?" She tilted her head to the side and her smile turned gentle. "No such luck, mister. I'm here to stay."

Crowley grinned, his dark eyes glinting dangerously at the challenge.

"Suppose I'd better show you the sights then."

With a flick of his wrist, the door swung off its hinges and the chaos she had been expecting hit her in full force.

People that Clara knew better than to assume were human rushed around as if they all had a specific purpose, some holding stacks of old books and papers, some striding past with blood soaked shirts and knives drenched in dripping crimson. It was organised chaos, she realised, looking around further. When she squinted to see what was at the end of the new passage, wider and lighter than the first one, she saw that a steady line of people waited for something around the corner, for what, she wasn't sure. Somewhere in the distance, behind the stone walls glistening with something that made her want to look away, she thought she heard a wretched wail of pain. Clara froze.

For a moment she felt lost, out of her depth, but then Crowley's hand was on the small of her back, gentle but insistent, guiding her forward.

"Alright, you wastes of vessels," Crowley boomed suddenly, and every head turned in their direction, all demons standing to attention. Clara didn't fail to notice the deep-rooted fear present in most of their eyes. "This is Clara, and what she says goes."

Clara blinked, straightening up suddenly as she realised all eyes were on her, some accusing, some just confused. She cleared her throat self-consciously, trying to ease the startled hush that had fallen over the demons. One particular man stepped forward with an indignant look on his face. He gestured towards Clara as if unhappy with her presence there.

"Sir-" He began to object, but it was Clara that cut him off.

"You heard him," She raised an eyebrow, surprising herself at the sound of her own voice, loud and clear.

The demon opened his mouth to speak, but Crowley glared at him and he fell silent.

" _Like I said_ , what she says goes. Speak out of turn again, and I'll make you swallow your own tongue. Capiche?" The simple flicking motion Crowley made with his hand sent the demon hurtling across the room until he slammed against the wall with a sickening crack. Clara gasped, momentarily concerned, until the demon began spluttering out apologies and she realised that a simple cracked skull and fractured spine wouldn't kill one of these things.

Realising her mouth had been hanging over in shock, she clamped it shut quickly. She peered up at Crowley who shrugged matter-of-factly.

"Were you ever nice?" She questioned, eyes wide.

Crowley paused for a moment, as if carefully considering his answer.

"Once," He replied finally, a dark expression of disgust passing over his face. "Worst three minutes of my life."

Clara let out a laugh and followed him across the room, enjoying the way the demons cleared the way for them. She had a strong sense that she needn't worry about them now.

She raised an eyebrow as they walked alongside the painstakingly slow-moving line of demons, shuffling forward another fraction every now and then.

"What are they waiting for?" She inclined her head towards them in curiously. Crowley smirked smugly.

"Nothing. Worst torture of all, isn't it?"

"Ouch," Clara widened her eyes slightly, letting out a strangled sound somewhere halfway between a surprised yelp and a laugh. "Sorry I asked."

"Alright, wait in here," Crowley pushed open another door, and they found themselves in a large, cluttered room, dark like the rest of the place but much more spacious.

"Wait, what?" Clara spun around to face him, catching hold of his arm fiercely. "I'm coming with you."

"I'm going to a part of Hell you won't want to see," Crowley looked at her earnestly, and Clara knew there was no point arguing with him. The stubborn part of her continued holding onto his arm for a moment longer, unhappy at the thought of being left behind, but the sensible side of her told herself that if Crowley thought she wouldn't want to see something, then maybe it really wasn't for her eyes.

"Fine," She looked down at the ground, releasing his arm reluctantly.

"Hey," Crowley lifted her chin up with his finger and looked at her. Once her eyes met his Clara couldn't look away, and the gaze was so intense that she was almost positive Crowley was looking into her soul. "Maybe someday. But not today."

"You're the boss, I suppose," She sighed, looking away finally. Her skin was tingling all over, and she had to force her breathing to remain steady so Crowley wouldn't notice. "Hurry back then, yeah?"

Crowley smirked in way of an answer and turned away, walking towards another door off the side of the room.

"Don't go running off, we're here on business remember?" He called over his shoulder before pulling open the door and disappearing inside as it slammed shut behind him.

"Says the one," Clara grumbled, settling for scouring her surroundings for something to do instead. Everything down here seemed to be illuminated by candlelight, causing sinister shadows to dance and fight along the walls. Clara was almost certain it was just for dramatic effect.

This room he had dumped her in seemed to be an important one, and she guessed just by looking at the messy state of it that it was the place Crowley spent most of his time in whilst in Hell. She paused to examine a few scattered papers littering a nearby desk, the parchment tinged brown and gnarled with age, but stopped when she noticed a stain on one of the pages that looked suspiciously like blood. She passed a bowl of herbs and bones that reminded her of the kind she used during that summoning spell gone wrong. It seemed like so long ago now. A few metal objects she couldn't- And definitely didn't want to- identify lay haphazardly across the floor, and at the far end of the room, on a slightly raised platform in the centre was-

"No _way,_ " Clara laughed, starting towards the large, intricately designed throne.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Clara spun around, instantly on her guard at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. A dark-skinned woman with a shock of voluminous black hair, who appeared to be around her own age stood before her, hands clasped in front of her. She was dressed in a formal looking suit, and even with the small heels she was wearing, she wasn't much taller than Clara herself.

"Who're you?" Clara demanded, her tone coming across a tad more defensive than she had intended. The demon didn't appear perturbed, simply flashing her eyes black as way of answer. She raised her eyebrows matter-of-factly. Clara mashed her lips into a firm line and decided that demons definitely did that eye thing just to show off.

"I'm here to keep an eye on you while the King is gone," She replied simply, and Clara's eyebrows shot up.

"Um, I don't need a babysitter, thanks," She half laughed in disbelief, but the demon didn't budge.

"That's not your call to make, I'm afraid," She smiled condescendingly, and Clara folded her arms across her chest in annoyance at her tone.

"What's your name then?" She pressed, refusing to feel intimidated. She had a feeling that her ties to Crowley were part of her safety contract- No one would dare to hurt the King's guest of honour. The demon glared at her, her face stonily cold suddenly.

"Not important. I'm just a foot soldier-"

"A foot solider without a name?" Clara didn't relent. "Somehow I find that hard to believe-"

"Bela," The demon snapped exasperatedly. "It's Bela. And I already know your name, Clara Oswald, so that's it for the pleasantries."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Clara arched a brow. She shrugged and turned back towards the throne, still slightly irritated at the fact that she had to be minded, but realising that maybe it was necessary. "Fine," She breathed in a huff of slight annoyance. "That's just fine."

Deciding to turn back to the matter at hand, she eyed the glorified chair up calculatingly. She strode towards the throne with a spring in her step, running a hand along the upholstery almost reverently before sitting down on it and crossing her legs as regally as she could manage. She cracked a grin, probably enjoying herself too much and definitely not caring.

"I can't believe he has a _throne!_ A throne!" She laughed gleefully, her bad mood vanquished, shifting around in the seat a little. She squinted as she positioned herself on the chair more casually, slightly impressed. "And it's actually comfortable, too."

"You should probably get down now," The demon had moved closer and was now watching her with barely concealed apprehension, clasping and unclasping her hands anxiously. "If he comes back-"

"Oh come _on,_ " Clara rolled her eyes, stretching out, making herself even more comfortable as a result, much to the demons annoyance. "Why are you so scared of him, huh? I know your technically dead but _live_ a little!"

The demon remained silent, glaring at her. Clara wondered briefly what kind of things Crowley must have done to earn that glint of fear mingled with respect in the demon's eyes. Contemplating for a moment, she bounced up suddenly, and the demon's shoulders sagged a little in relief.

"Go on then," Clara grinned, nodding her head towards the chair. "Give it a try. You know you want to."

The demon looked at her as if she had just offered her a pint of holy water.

"What- No- Are you _insane?_ " The demon stared at her wide eyed. "I couldn't-"

"Why not?" Clara prodded, starting to enjoy herself. "I know you're just dying to. Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to sit up there?"

The demon eyed the chair, a flash of temptation in her eyes. She took a hesitant step forward, but then she shook her head.

"If Crowley found out, he'd-"

"- Be really upset that you've ruined my image of demons as fearless beings," Clara shrugged with a mock pout. The demon rolled her eyes.

"You're trying to get me in trouble, that's what you're doing."

"I'm not trying to do anything, but this is probably the only chance you'll get to sit in that chair and I know you want to take it," Clara leaned against a pillar nonchalantly. She wasn't a hundred percent sure why she was doing this, but she was bored, and she wanted to get a better idea of what demons were like.

The demon bit her lip, then something seemed to shift in her expression and she closed the small space remaining between herself and the chair and sat down on it quickly. She froze, as if almost shocked that she had actually done it. Clara laughed.

"You're a bad influence, you know that?" The demon shook her head with a disbelieving chuckle. "I can see why Crowley brought you here."

Clara arched an eyebrow but ignored the comment, and the demon gasped as the door swung open with more force than was probably necessary. She sprang from the chair as if she'd been shocked, and Clara leapt to take her place. She may have enjoyed teasing the demon, but it wasn't on her agenda to get anyone in trouble. She swung her legs over the arm of the chair, positioning herself more comfortably and smiled brightly as Crowley walked in.

He took a few steps then stopped, squinting at her for a moment and making a face.

" _This_ is what you've been getting up to?" His tone was laced with disbelief. "Playing musical chairs with my demons?"

Clara dangled her legs over the edge of the chair with a grin.

"I didn't know you had a spot in Hell reserved for me, Crowley," She beamed, gesturing to herself and the throne. Crowley paused mid-step, leaning back as if to examine her in more detail, a half smirk on his face.

"You know, I think royalty suits you."

"Well, I _have_ always wanted to be a queen," Clara winked, not caring that they were crossing into dangerous territory now. Crowley's eyes glinted mischievously.

"Where have you been all my life?"

"Waiting for you, obviously."

Crowley cracked a smile and took her hand gently, pressing his lips to it briefly with a wink.

"Come on then, my queen," He pulled her up and Clara, filled with a sudden surge of bravery, laced her fingers through his instead of letting go. Crowley didn't appear to object to the gesture. He cast a quick glance over at the demon girl who was still standing cautiously in a corner of the room. "You can go."

Clara gave a little wave as the demon nodded quickly and scurried away. She raised an eyebrow.

"Timid as a mouse. I guess not all demons are as big and bad and scary as you."

"And don't you forget it," Crowley tugged at her hand, pulling her along. "Come on. Places to go, people to see, and all that."

"Where are we going?"

Crowley paused to look down at her, that glint of mirth shimmering in his eyes once more.

"In the mood for a bit of danger?"

Clara clasped his hand tighter and grinned, feeling her heart thud harder in her chest.

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

 **And that's a wrap on this chapter! I actually had more planned for it but it was getting too long so I decided I'd leave it for next timeeee**

 **So, there was a subtle piece of information hidden in that chapter that I'm not sure I want to do something with yet, whether I'll write it off as a coincidence or follow through with it and just… Roll with it a guess, can anyone guess what it is? ;)**

 **So, hopefully you guys enjoyed that, wanna let me know what you thought? I'm right here guys, right here, just leave a review :D**


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm back with a far longer chapter than usual! I hope you're having as much fun reading this as I am writing it**

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"Come on then, out with it. Where are we going?"

"This is the third bloody time you've asked! If I'm not mistaken, patience is a highly regarded value."

"Not in Hell it's not! And we've been walking for hours. Can't you just zap us there?"

"Take a breath, love. It's been _five minutes!_ Are you being this insufferable on purpose?"

"I'll be the judge of time here, thanks. And alright, maybe just a small bit," Clara pursed her lips together tightly to refrain from smiling. There was something so addictive about teasing the King of Hell. They had definitely been walking for at least ten minutes though, and she had lost count of the number of crumbling stone steps they had descended. The smug demon accompanying her hadn't bother to warn her about the amount of countless meandering corridors and stairwells they would have to pass through, merely telling her to _"Watch your step, Teach, it's a long way down"._ Clara had been less than impressed. The décor seemed to decrease in finesse the further down they ventured, not that it had been much to brag about in the first place. Skulls lined these walls, embedded into the stone alongside the sparsely situated flaming torches, and the floor was perpetually slick with water. Crowley had informed her that even he didn't think too highly of the place, and she could see why. She shivered.

"Let me ask a different question then. Bit of an important one really. Did you get the key?"

"Ah," Crowley delved into his pocket for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he retrieved a silver dagger with a lethal jagged edge. Crowley grimaced, returning it to the confines of his coat hastily. "Oops. Not what I was looking for. Save that for another day. Hold on…"

After a second of further rummaging which Clara spent dubiously contemplating the deadly contents of Crowley's pockets, the demon finally pulled out a small, gnarled grey object with a triumphant expression. Clara raised her eyebrow at it sceptically, unimpressed by the small key. Crowley frowned at her.

"You look disappointed."

"Well, that's because it's disappointing," Clara admitted easily with a frown of her own. "To be perfectly honest, I expected more."

Crowley shrugged, appearing nonplussed by her lack of appreciation. He eyed the key hungrily, the sole object that was his leverage in this whole Tardis-Winchester business. Clara glanced suspiciously from the key to the demon who was still staring at it as if it was made of solid gold.

"Uh, Crowley do you wanna be alone with that thing?"

"Jealous, darling?" He smirked flirtatiously and tossed the apparent 'key' high into the air in her direction. Clara quickly snatched it with fumbling fingers before it hit the ground, shooting Crowley a warning glare and thanking her reflexes for not failing her in a rather embarrassing manner. She had never been one for sport, but her hand-eye coordination had been improved some from her time travelling in the Tardis. The Doctor tended to make a habit of tossing her his sonic screwdriver unexpectedly, and often the consequence of not catching it could be pretty dire. The demon merely smirked.

Clara turned the key over in her hands, slowing her pace considerably in order to examine it in more detail. It wasn't like any key she had ever laid eyes on before, but it just about resembled the shape of one enough for her to believe that his really was the object they had come down here for. A sickly grey sheen coated it, tinged with black, the edges of it twisted like the branches of dying trees.

"Not very nice looking though, is it?"

"Don't be superficial. It's what's on the inside that counts," Crowley tapped his temple and cast her a sideways glance, his eyes flashing blood red momentarily. Clara blinked and her steps faltered, caught off guard for a moment. Amongst the easy going flirtatious banter, it wasn't hard to forget what he was sometimes. She recovered her composure quickly, holding her chin high and eyeing him mischievously.

"Is that what you say to the people you possess?" She quipped back without missing a beat, and Crowley actually cracked a smile, though it disappeared as soon as it had come.

"Yes, _this_ is why I haven't killed you yet," His snarky tone dripped with sarcasm. "For your side-splittingly funny jokes. Ha."

"I knew you kept me around for something," Clara replied airily, punching his arm hard, knowing the smug demon would barely feel it anyway. "Let's face it, Crowley. You need me and my genius one-liners."

"Oh yes, you're a simply _wonderful_ asset to my team. A barrel of laughs," Crowley grumbled, throwing his eyes up towards the ceiling in exasperation. "This is why I pay you, right? I should really give you a raise."

"You don't even pay me."

"My mistake. This is why I allow you to remain alive."

Clara scoffed. Crowley smirked at her, the smug mask back in place.

"Just one more teensy little nugget of information about that fascinating key you're holding so dearly right now," He inclined his head towards the key still clasped securely in Clara's hands. He paused for dramatic effect. "It's made of human bone."

Clara shrieked, immediately throwing the key into the air on impulse. Crowley reached out and snatched it quickly, pocketing it again as he laughed, amusement shining in his eyes.

"You're just the gift that keeps on giving, love," He remained grinning and Clara fought an indignant growl, practically stomping after him in annoyance.

"Well, I'm glad you find me so amus-"

"Shh," Crowley held a finger to his lips, his other hand taking hold of her arm and stopping her in her tracks. "We're here."

By _here,_ he seemed to mean a large, rusty metal grid embellished with ornate designs and threatening spikes, suggesting that it was a door of sorts not only meant to keep something in, but also to keep people out. It was situated at the very end of the long, dark corridor they had been walking down, an alternative route Crowley had hastily picked after the last passageway they had ventured through, which had been lined with cells holding wailing spirits. Clara hadn't exactly enjoyed seeing the tortured souls clambering at the bars of their cages as they passed to say the least. Gloomy and decrepit as it may be, at least this hallway was far quieter.

Now though, she felt a sudden spark of nervousness, mingled with anticipation. She attempted to push the part of her that feared what she might be about to see to the back of her addled mind, trying to focus on the part of her that was practically buzzing with excitement. Adventure, danger, never knowing what was going to happen next… That was what she wanted, what she had always wanted. And that was what Crowley could give her, she realised with a start.

"Wait!" She blurted out before she could stop herself, covering his hand with hers to stop him as he closed his fist around on of the metal bars, preparing to unleash whatever was inside. Crowley raised an eyebrow expectantly as Clara stood there with her mouth open, feeling like an utter idiot.

"What?" He probed eventually, his smooth voice taking on a mocking tone. "Cowardly lion got your tongue?"

"I just…" Clara fumbled around blindly for the right words, inwardly cursing her mind from going blank whenever she met Crowley's eyes. "I… You… Me."

"What?" Crowley squinted at her as if blinded by her stupidity. Clara sighed. And blurted everything out in a huge jumbled rush.

"I mean… You and me. Me and you. I'm staying with you. After this. When this whole thing is all done and dusted, don't leave. Okay? I want to do more stuff like this, dangerous, stupid, fun stuff like this. With you. So, don't just… Leave me. Please."

Crowley blinked. Clara raised an eyebrow. Crowley cleared his throat.

"Okay," He choked out, eyes still widened in surprise at her little outburst. To be perfectly honest, Clara hadn't been expecting it either.

"Okay," She parroted, giving him a little salute and releasing his hand from under hers. Crowley tilted his head to the side, surveying her, and took her face in his hands suddenly. Clara had to remind herself to breath.

Crowley narrowed his eyes, his gaze boring into her soul as he examined her. Clara gave him an inquisitive look, hoping that it was too dark in here for him to notice the blush on her cheeks. Seemingly satisfied, the demon drew back slightly, his expression softening.

"What?" Clara whispered, not trusting herself to speak any louder.

"Just making sure you weren't possessed."

"Are you for real?"

"Are you?" The grave look in Crowley's eyes indicated to Clara that the question was loaded with significance, the demons face lacking his signature smirk for once. "Is this really… What you want? I'm a demon, Clara-"

"Yes," Clara stopped him before he could go any further. She paused, taking a deep breath and raised her hands to circle his wrists, his hands still cupping her face with surprising gentleness. "Yes."

"Well, every king does need a queen," He mused quietly. A ghost of a smile played around Crowley's face. "You know what? I think you're something that I'm not going to let those Winchesters take away from me."

"So do we have a deal, then?" Clara felt an unbidden smile tug at her lips. Crowley put a finger to her lips with a smirk.

"Oh, when we get topside, we'll have our deal," His eyes danced with mirth. "You know how deals are sealed?"

He winked and dropped his hands from her face, leaving Clara breathless and without an answer to his rhetorical question, though she suspected she knew what it was.

"You are a terrible influence on me," She breathed, shaking her head slowly with an awed smile.

"Thank you," He beamed, appearing genuinely delighted at her confession. He slide a heavy bolt across the door with a harsh clang. "Now, keep your terror to a minimum please. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

"Oh yeah?" Clara rushed after him, her curiosity effectively peaked as they entered another, relatively large room. "Who's that then?"

Crowley clicked his fingers with a proud smile as the room was instantly illuminated by dripping wax candles along the walls. Clara could now see clearly, only there was absolutely nothing to see. The room was as stark and bleak as the rest of the place, with bare walls and a few metal chains curled in a corner. She heaved a sigh.

"Oh, I get it. This is your plan to finally kill me? Make me think I'm safe with you, then lure me down here and wait for me to die of suspense?"

"Don't be so dramatic," Crowley rolled his eyes and sauntered over to the centre of the room, spinning back to face her with a flourish. "And try to look a tad more excited. Clara Oswald, I would like to introduce Juliet and Co."

Crowley grinned, motioning to the room in front of them. Which was still infuriatingly empty.

"I… Don't see anything, sorry," Clara shrugged, glancing up at him, confused. Crowley clicked his teeth impatiently.

"Well of course you wouldn't," He snapped exasperatedly. "You're human. You can't see them unless they let you. Or unless your damned soul is on the verge of being dragged to Hell _which_ is a tale for another time… Come on, Juliet, don't be shy now."

Clara prepared to open her mouth, armed with another puzzled comment to fire when she froze at the sound of nails scraping against the cold stone floor near the corner of the room. The chains shifted against the floor with an eerily grating sound in response to something tugging at them. Clara squinted into the shadows, trying to decipher what the cause of the sound might be, but was unsuccessful. She was still frustratingly unable to see anything there. The tapping of nails on stone resumed again, closer this time, as if something was approaching steadily… And was that a _growl_?

"Crowley… What-"

She gasped as the air shifted slightly into something more tangible, and if Clara concentrated hard enough, she thought she could see the faint smoky outline of a very large, very intimidating _something._ The large black something growled again, and- Yes, those two blood red lights glaring directly at Clara were _definitely_ eyes.

She took a shaky step back, keeping her eyes fixed on the creature as the wisps of black smoke slowly but surely morphed in a more visible shape, one that Clara instantly recognised.

"Crowley," She grabbed his arm, nails digging into his jacket sleeve, her eyes never once leaving the animal. She watched it with a sense of fear mingled with fascination. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes, I suppose it's safe to assume that this is the first time you've seen a-"

" _You've got a pet werewolf?"_ Clara covered her mouth with her hand quickly, as if her sudden exclamation might startle the creature. Crowley made a strangled sound.

"A _hellhound,_ you imbecile. _She's a hellhound!_ "

" _Oh!_ " Clara choked out a sound something halfway between a frightened yelp and a surprised laugh. "Oh. Right. I knew that. I, uh… Slip of the tongue."

"Convincing," Crowley shot her a glare and shook his head. Clara shrugged apologetically. The demon crouched down, eye to eye with the hellhound and whistled. "Come here, girl."

If Clara wasn't so stricken with awe and fascination at the scene unfolding in front of her, she would have laughed at the sweet tone of voice Crowley had adopted. She never imagined she'd hear the likes of it from _him_ of all people.

Crowley reached out to pat the demonic pitbull on the head, and the guarded growls subsided. Clara could see it more clearly now, though it still appeared to be made of thick vapour and swirling smoke.

"And I thought _I_ was the strangest pet you owned," She commented absentmindedly, eyes still trained on the dog. She took a few tentative steps forward. She had never owned a dog, didn't have much experience with them, but she knew that looking such an animal in the eyes was considered a sign of aggression. Even so, she couldn't help but look at the bright crimson orbs that fixated on her suddenly. The hound gave a low growl, its fangs bared in snarl. Clara swallowed hard, but held her ground, crouching down slowly beside Crowley.

"Juliet, don't be rude," Crowley chided gently, giving the dog a gentle tap on the snout. "This is Clara, she's no threat to you. Trust me, she wouldn't hurt a fly."

" _It's_ scared of _me_?" Clara hissed in disbelief. "What's so threatening about _me_?"

"Nothing. You look like little birds help you get dressed in the morning. _She_ just isn't used to strangers, that's all," Crowley corrected. He issued her with a sinister smirk. "Scared?"

"Should I be?"

"Probably. She could easily rip you to shreds if she wanted. But you won't, will you, Juliet?" Crowley cooed, ruffling the colossal dog's fur affectionately. "Papa doesn't want you to hurt this one, okay? She's mine. I want her alive for the time being."

"Wow," Clara breathed in disbelief.

"I know. Magnificent, isn't she?"

"I'm talking about you. I've never seen you act this nice."

"I'm full of surprises."

"Can… Can I…?" Clara trailed off quietly, one trembling hand outstretched cautiously. Fascination was winning out over fear at this point. Out of the corner of her eye, she could make out more dark blurred shapes lurking in the shadows. She wondered briefly how many hellhounds were hiding in this room, just mere steps away from her.

"She won't bite. Probably," Crowley assured her with a grin. Clara held her breath, willing her hand to stop shaking as she held it out to the hound, her palm facing inward, testing. The dog growled, and Clara could hear her heart pounding in her ears. It sniffed her hand, its growls quietening considerably after a brief, tense moment. Its nose prodded her hand, and Clara almost jumped, startled that she could actually feel it. It looked like a toxic mixture of wisps of smoke and vapours, as if the mass of dark air could just blow away with the wind. But its strength surprised her as it butted her hand again.

Feeling brave, she reached out to touch its head, and Juliet huffed, inching closer and pushing against her hand. It didn't feel like fur, but it was soft and warm, like something just barely solid enough to touch without putting your hand straight through it. Clara found herself smiling as she stroked the demon dogs head and looked at Crowley, feeling elated. His expression gave nothing away, but she could see a sparkle in his eyes that indicated that he was impressed. Clara turned her attention back to Juliet.

"Good girl," She crooned, scratching the hellhound behind the ears. "You're not so scary, are you, Juliet?"

The hellhound whined and Clara laughed, adrenaline coursing through her.

"This is amazing," She whispered breathlessly, unable to wipe the smile from her face.

"I think she likes you," Crowley murmured, disbelief evident in his expression. "I'm almost impressed."

" _I touched a hellhound and have all ten fingers still intact_ ," Clara gasped with a proud grin.

"Yes, it's definitely one to tell the grandkids," Crowley agreed, his toned still laced with surprise. "Clara Oswald, you've tamed one of my top vicious soul collecting killing machines."

"What did you expect?" Clara gave him her best 'I told you so' smile and shrugged. "I'm a charmer."

"You certainly are," Crowley straightened up but froze suddenly. He frowned in confusion, holding up a finger and cocking his head to the side. He exhaled in a soft hiss, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Clara scrambled to her feet as Juliet and the other hellhounds began to whimper and snarl. Her muscles tensed up suddenly, and she felt on edge as the hounds began to shift around, agitated. Something was going on.

"I think…" Crowley paused, straining to hear something Clara's ears weren't equipped to pick up. His face shifted into a stony expression as the hellhounds erupted into a chorus of aggravated howls.

"What is it? What's going on?" Clara stared at him wide eyed, her breathing quickening.

"Trouble. Time to go."

Crowley grabbed Clara's hand and dragged her from the room quickly. She urged her legs to move faster, struggling to keep up and narrowly avoided falling flat on her face.

"What are we running from that could be such a threat?" She panted, wishing she'd worn more appropriate footwear for running. "I'm not trying to be rude, but you're kind of already dead."

"And you're merely a death that hasn't happened yet."

"You're right. I could die. Or worse still, get a lecture from the Doctor when we get back."

"Nice to know that you've got your priorities straight. Fasten your seatbelt."

The words of warning were barely out of Crowley's mouth before the air was abruptly sucked out of Clara's lungs, and when she opened her eyes that she hadn't remembered closing, they were standing somewhere else entirely. Struggling to catch her breath, she looked around quickly and deduced that they were definitely still in Hell, but now, instead of feeling trapped inside some dark decrepit building underground, she could see the sky.

Among the ominous, swirling storm clouds which were spitting out bolts of lightning, crackling and flashing in the dark sky, was a small box spinning and crashing out of control. A small _blue_ box. Crowley shielded his eyes with his arm as the Tardis crashed against a large pillar, sending a shower of small shards of rock raining down on their heads. Demons were everywhere, Clara realised, shouting at each other and hissing suspiciously at the foreign object which was currently crashing into everything in its path.

"Bollocks," Crowley hissed as chaos and fire erupted around them.

"Sir, what do you propose we do?" A nervous looking demon clutched a clipboard frantically, eyeing the Tardis with dismay. "The impact of its collision with the left wing has damaged some of the cells and some of the souls made a run for it-"

" _Bollocks_!"

Crowley pushed past the anxious demon, neck craned up towards the sky to squint at the Tardis. Rage was evident in his expression and Clara' stomach clenched tightly in worry.

"Crowley, we have to-"

"Destroy it, I know."

"That's not what I was going to say!" Clara had to yell to be heard above the raucous commotion erupting around them. The Tardis crashed into another wall of stone, and demons sprinted to safety as it crumbled, the Tardis leaving fire and destruction in its wake. Crowley grabbed a passing demon by the collar.

"You! Stop that bloody box if it kills you! Someone get me a witch! We have to end this thing _immediately_."

He shoved the demon away angrily, a group of demons nearby who had been listening nodding in agreement, faces awash with concern as they scurried away.

"You know, I feel like you're on my side here but only barely," Clara gritted her teeth and tugged at Crowley's arm. He started towards the blue box. "Crowley, we are not destroying that Tardis! _Crowley_ \- Did you even hear anything I just said?"

"To be brutally honest, Clara, I'm barely listening right now."

"Well you better start paying attention because right now I want to punch someone and _you're dangerously close_!"

Crowley clenched his jaw and effortlessly swept his hand towards a large shard of flaming metal the Tardis had just dislodged, redirecting its path to crash into the nearest wall. He turned towards Clara just as the wall above them crumbled and shattered. Clara felt the heat from the fire erupting around them threaten to engulf her and willed her legs to move, but she couldn't. Crowley swore and threw himself in front of her, pushing her out of the way while shielding her from the impact. Clara clamped her eyes tightly shut and grabbed onto him, and they were gone.

When she opened her eyes again, two things were significantly different. One, their location, which she had expected. Two, any doubt in her mind that she may not be able to trust Crowley had completely vanished, along with the chaos in Hell. They were now standing in a circular room that Clara recognised as one of the many part of the bunker. They were back. She unfolded herself carefully from Crowley's arms, looking up at him with wide eyes, one thought firm in her mind.

"You saved me," She breathed. Crowley sucked in a sharp intake of breath in horror.

"I- What- No, that's absurd. I did no such thing, you take that back."

"You _do_ care! I knew it, I knew you cared-"

" _No,_ I do not. I don't care. At all. I cannot emphasise enough how little I care-"

Clara kissed him.

And suddenly she understood. She got it. Everything. She had never truly believed it before, how you supposedly just know when something is right, you just _feel_ it and you _know_ that this is where you're meant to be, but now it all made sense. From the way her hands gripped Crowley's face like she never wanted to let go, to the way his fingers tangled in her hair, an unspoken promise that he was hers and she was his. She didn't think she had even made a conscious decision to press her lips to his, but now Crowley was kissing her back and her knees were going weak and she couldn't form a thought coherent enough to realise that she was in too deep now and this was bad bad bad and she never, ever wanted this to end.

"You care at least a tiny bit," She pulling back just enough to whisper against his lips, stroking his cheek with her thumb gently. "And that's enough to seal the deal for me."

"You're the bane of my existence."

Clara felt Crowley's smile against her lips, and she returned it with one of her own.

"Love you too."

Crowley chuckled softly, his forehead resting against hers.

"Holy crap!"

The pair sprung apart at the sudden exclamation and turned in unison to discover a disgruntled looking Dean Winchester standing stock still at the bottom of the stairs he had just descended, staring at them with his mouth agape. Clara opened her mouth and closed it again, words failing her. She shifted from foot to foot, suddenly lost for an explanation.

"Oh, _joy_ ," Crowley grunted. "This is bound to be a train wreck for all involved."

"Uh, Dean-" Clara began but stopped when Dean made a strangled choking sound.

"Yes, startling revelation, isn't it, Dean?" Crowley sighed and dusted himself down. "Clara, please ensure him that I wasn't attempting to suck out your soul."

"My soul- Oh, god no!" Clara blinked, a startled laugh forcing its way up her throat at the preposterous idea. "Don't be daft!"

Dean didn't appear to be listening. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, pinched the bridge of his nose, muttered something incomprehensible under his breath and looked at them again, squinting as if unsure whether his eyes were deceiving him or not.

"Really, Clara? Really? You're making a deal with _him_? The freaking king of rotten?" Dean pointed at them accusingly, horror written all over his features. "Aren't teachers supposed to be smart? How could you be this goddamn reckless?"

Clara attempted to interject, but Dean continued ranting.

"You know, for someone so small, you make some colossally bad decisions. What'd you sell your soul for then, huh? Friggin' hair extensions?"

"Hold your horses, Squirrel," Crowley held up his hands in surrender. "For lack of a less cliché phrase, it's not what it looks like-"

"Not what it looks like?!" Dean's eyed bulged out of his head incredulously. "You know what I think it looks like? Your standard demon deal. You know what it's gunna look like in a minute? My fist connecting with your goddamn nose."

Clara's heart sank as the Doctor's voice wafted from around the corner, the sound quickly followed by the man himself as he approached Dean. They needed to relinquish control of the situation. Fast.

"Dean, are you having another drunken brawl?" He turned, catching sight of Clara and bared his teeth in a grin, brandishing his sonic screwdriver. "Oh, Clara, you've returned to the realm of the living! What a relief. Don't worry, I barely noticed you were gone."

"Oh fan-friggin'-tastic, Doctor Disco is late to the party!" Dean grunted, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "The deal was going down just a minute ago, Doc. Looks like Clara's soul has just gone on the market."

Clara sighed, exasperated and took a step towards the Doctor and Dean.

" _No,_ it hasn't, thanks very much-"

"Clara! What did I tell you about selling your soul to strangers?" The Doctor waved his hands around boisterously and Dean ducked out of the way of the sonic screwdriver, batting him away with a glare. "This is a classic example of bad parenting, isn't it? Stroppy rebellious teen acts up to prove that she's ready for the real world-"

"Doctor, I'm not a child!"

"Of course, right, I forget sometimes. Forgetting, remembering, they're too very difficult things to balance at the one time. And you don't make it easy you know, what with your antics," He waved the sonic again, this time bumping off Dean's nose.

"Hey, watch it, man!"

"It's hard to remember how old you are when we both look so similar in age. Head like a cheese grater, you know me," The Doctor continued as if Dean hadn't spoken.

"A sieve, genius. Head like a friggin' sieve."

"Yes, thanks for your input, Dean. I'm beginning to see why you get beaten up so often. I'm one more pop culture reference away from losing my mind here. Clara you're not helping matters by eloping and canoodling with demons. I'm sorry it's come to this, but you're grounded," The Time Lord spun around on his heels, his coat billowing around his knees as he jabbed a bony finger at Crowley. "And _you_ , you were supposed to be looking after her! She can barely fend for herself here on earth let alone down in Hades! You had a duty of care, and instead you give her the kiss of death and yank her soul from her body! Give it back, or I shall call someone who can exorcise you!"

Dean let of a huff of disbelief and gestured to himself. "Uh, _right here,_ dude."

Clara held up her hands as a peace offering.

"Whoa, wait. Doctor, listen-"

The Time Lord had begun storming over to Crowley, who was standing with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, an amused expression on his face.

"Do you think this is funny?" The Doctor yelled.

"Not half as funny as it will be when you find out I _wasn't stealing her soul_ ," Crowley smiled brightly. The Doctor narrowed his eyes as Crowley gave an exaggerated glance to a non-existent watch on his wrist. "Not that I'm not enjoying this little rendez-vous, boys, but there's a bit of a situation back home that I have to deal with-"

"I gave her to you to borrow, not to return to me with some pieces missing!" The Doctor cut him off, raising his voice. "I was reasonable about you taking her on your little trip to the Underworld too. Heck, I was just short of popping a coin into your mouth to ensure your safe crossing!"

"Do I look like I'm in the mood to be interrogated by the Winchesters and their adopted alien stick insect right now?" Crowley yelled. "No? Well then, let's assume that I'm _not."_

 _"_ Well someone's got to do the explaining around here-"

"I think that's my queue to leave," Crowley took a step back. Clara spun around to face him incredulously.

"Oi! You can't go! They think we made a demon deal or something, you have to explain-"

"Trust me, there are easier ways of torturing myself," Crowley looked up over Clara's shoulder towards Dean and the Doctor. "And I've got a mess in Hell to clean up, thanks to your bloody Tardis!"

"My Tardis?" The Doctor froze, muscles tensed. "What's my Tardis doing in Hell?"

"You tell me, Doc," Crowley shrugged, glaring at the Doctor. "Clara, this is one battle you'll have to fight on your own. If I don't go back downstairs to sort this mess out _now_ , I could have a serious problem on my hands. We _all_ could."

"Oh, don't you dare," Clara narrowed her eyes in warning. Crowley smirked.

"I apologise… For nothing," He winked, raised his hand, fingers poised to click. "Good luck."

"I am going to _kill_ him!" She yelled as the demon disappeared.

"Not if I get there first," Dean muttered darkly as Clara turned reluctantly to face the two again. "Now, want to tell us what the heck is going on?"

* * *

 **There we have it, the long awaited kiss! What did you think? Any of you have a favourite chapter so far?**


	15. Chapter 15

**I hope you're all having a nice day, enjoy this new chapter you crazy bunch!**

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Clara sipped her piping hot tea cautiously, peering out over the rim of the delicate cup at the suspicious faces staring at her. They had relocated upstairs to the vast library, as it was complete with a couch and a set of comfortable armchairs, one of which Clara was sitting on, though she didn't feel especially at ease. She averted her eyes from the group and tried to focus on something else to calm her jittery nerves. Books, there were lots of books and files, most of them ancient looking volumes crammed into the shelves lining the walls. A variety of weapons were also proudly on display, and at the end of the room was a large telescope that she hadn't noticed before. Clara made a mental note to check it out sometime at a later date. The Doctor sat across from her on the couch beside Castiel, fingers neatly steepled underneath his chin as he stared at her, scrutinising her warily. She was beginning to feel more and more like a caged animal. Dean was perched languidly on the edge of the arm of a chair, beer in hand, while Sam rubbed a large hand over his face wearily.

"Alright," Dean spoke up gruffly after a moment of tense silence. "The whole posse is here now and since Crowley's busy cultivating his reputation as a pain in the ass, _you_ better start talking."

Clara blew gently on her tea, watching the hot liquid ripple in response. She heaved a sigh and rubbed her forehead, eyes closed briefly. She could feel a headache coming on, and she really wasn't in the mood for this conversation.

"What do you want me to say?" She took another tentative sip. "My soul is still intact, if that's what you're wondering. I wasn't making a deal."

"Is this- Is this a joke?" Dean leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and annoyance. "Is that what this is? 'Cause I'm sure as hell not laughing."

"Dean, I believe jokes involve a punchline, and due to the fact that Clara hasn't delivered one, I think it is safe to say that she's being serious," Castiel added gravely, eyeing Clara with curiosity evident in his bright blue eyes.

"No offense, but you wouldn't know a sense of humour if it popped up and stole your halo from right in front of you," The Doctor waved a hand, dismissing Castiel's comment, eyes still trained on Clara. "Clara. Clara, Clara, Clara."

Clara sat up a bit straighter in her seat, gripping her cup nervously in her hands. She mashed her lips into a firm line.

"Okay, Doctor, I see what this is," She nodded tersely, putting the cup down on the cluttered table in front of her. "You're doing that thing, aren't you? That thing where you stare at me accusingly because you think I've made a stupid, reckless decision?"

"Yes. I do it almost daily, actually."

"Well, if you weren't making a deal, then what were you doing?" Sam frowned dubiously. Clara opened her mouth and shut it again after a beat passed and her vocal cords seemed to forget how to function.

"Wait- You're not saying- You don't mean-" Dean spluttered as the realisation dawned on him, choking on his beer. "You're not saying you kissed Crowley _willingly?_ "

"Have we ruled out demon possession?" Castiel rose to his feet abruptly and started towards her, pulling out a dagger from his pocket with fierce determination burning in his eyes.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there blue eyes!" Clara curled in on herself, practically melding herself into the seat as she held her palms out defensively.

"Look, be sensitive," The Doctor rapped Castiel on the shoulder and fixed the two hunters with an obstinate glare. He gestured towards Clara. "We're dealing with a strong willed egomaniac here-"

"I'm failing to see how that applies to _me_ ," Clara gritted her teeth and crossed her arms, vexed.

"Clara," The Doctor leaned forward appealingly, hands resting on his knees as he surveyed her earnestly. "If this is true, then I'm afraid you're going to die alone and stupid."

"That is-" Clara snapped indignantly but stopped abruptly. She had to admit, she had probably been a bit reckless, though she couldn't seem to help it. "… Debateable."

"Clara, you and Crowley aren't…" Sam ran a hand through his hair with a resigned sigh. "I mean you're not… Are you?"

"It's hardly any of your business."

Clara!" The Doctor glowered at her. "I'm supposed to protect you. You're not making my job any easier here!"

"Look, Doctor," Clara adopted a more soothing tone, attempting to placate him. "I know you want to keep me safe but let's face it, the only way you can really do that is by tying me up, wrapping me in bubble wrap and leaving me stranded on some faraway uninhabited planet."

"Believe me, I've considered it but it's not worth the drama it would cause."

"Are we honestly having this discussion right now?" Dean yelled. "Are we seriously doing this?"

"Dean, can we maybe handle this situation with a little less hostility?" Sam arched a brow in a mollifying manner.

"Hey, just because you had a fling with a demon _eons_ ago doesn't mean you can justify Clara going dark side. You're not in a position to lecture anyone anyway, you once let the devil take your skin out for a test ride!"

"Can everyone just shut up!" Clara yelled, but Sam and Dean were too busy staring daggers at each other to notice.

"Clara!" The Doctor snapped.

"Doctor!" She retaliated fiercely.

"Sam!" Dean took one final swig of his beer and brandished his empty bottle at the fridge.

"Dean?" Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"Castiel," Castiel stated, looking around at everyone with a hopelessly confused expression on his face. He paused, realising his mistake. "Oh, I… I thought… Never mind."

Dean rolled his eyes and stood to get another beer from the fridge.

"Jeez, I think I preferred it when I thought you were due a stint in Hell in ten years time. Alright, let's get our story straight here before Cas has a meltdown."

"My vessel is in a perfectly solid state-"

"Just leave it, Cas."

"What happened down there, Clara?" Sam's kind eyes were wide and earnest, and Clara found herself compelled to answer him.

"Look, mine and Crowley's… Personal matters aside, there's something not so good happening in Hell," Clara admitted, wringing her hands together as she prepared to launch into an account of the confusing events that had occurred.

"Tell us something we don't know," Dean scoffed, scrunching up his face bitterly.

"No really, as in the Tardis is down there right now galloping about without a rein!" Clara sprang from the chair and raised her voice, straining to effectively emphasise the importance of her point.

"What?" The Doctor spat furiously, his face contorting with rage. " _What_?"

"So the Tardis ran away from home and now it's hanging around in a bad neighbourhood," Dean whistled, long and low. He widened his eyes and blinked, shaking his head as if to clear his racing thoughts. "Whoa. Great. Friggin' fantastic."

"Perhaps the curse has caused the Tardis to be drawn to Hell," Castiel mused, his eyebrows drawing together, a small crease appearing in the middle of his forehead as he pondered. "It would make a great deal of sense."

"Like a giant magnet?" Clara looked from Cas to the Doctor and back again quizzically.

"Yes," Cas nodded gravely. "Like a giant magnet."

"So what are we going to do about it then?" The Doctor blurted out, indignation etched onto his features. "The Tardis is wreaking havoc in Hell and we're stuck up here! We have to get her back!"

"I'm sure Crowley has some sort of plan," Clara trailed off quietly as she saw the incredulous expressions on the others' faces.

"That's meant to be a good thing?" Sam's bitter laugh was devoid of humour as he offered a wry smile. "I'm guessing you're not familiar with some of his previous _plans_."

Clara raked a hand through her hair, her nerves frazzled.

"Look, I trust him-"

"Oh, so you think he'll do the right thing here?" Sam interjected, his head tilted slightly down as he looked up at her with a sceptic expression, a half smile curving his lips. Clara paused, pursing her lips tightly.

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Crowley is a douche, we've all established that," Dean motioned with his free hand, his half empty bottle of beer still clenched in the other. "He's had plenty of opportunities when he could have done the right thing, and you know what he did?"

"Waved with a smile as they passed him by," Sam finished for him, his tight lipped smile set.

"That's it, I'm going to Hell," The Doctor yelled. "Literally!"

"No, you are not! Sit!" Clara pointed at him sternly. She couldn't afford to let this get out of hand, and she could clearly see that it was on the verge of doing so. It was time for someone to take charge. The Doctor's eyebrows snapped together with a scowl.

"But-"

"Shut up. Just stop talking," Clara snapped, closing her eyes and holding out her hands, attempting to remain calm. Which was proving to be increasingly difficult. The Doctor pouted, reminding her, not for the first time, of a petulant child.

"But you know I'm not good at that."

Clara heaved a sigh that seemed to wrack her whole body, and pressed on despite her addled brain.

"Look, I know this is a bit of a setback, but-"

"Hallo, boys. And girl."

Clara didn't need to turn around to know that Crowley had chosen this particular moment to materialise in the room, but she did instinctively anyway. The demon stood in the corner and brushed himself down, scouring the room with his devious eyes before clapping his hands together with a flourish and sauntering towards them.

"Well, speak of the devil," Dean popped the top off his third beer.

"Don't over exaggerate," Crowley waltzed into the centre of the room, eyes alight with a dangerous glint. The Doctor stalked over to him brandishing his sonic screwdriver threateningly, his expression thunderous and his face set like stone. Crowley gave him a withering glare.

"Someone looks pleased to see me," He gave him a wry smile and strode past, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked by. He placed his hands on the table the group were clustered around and leaned against it, looking around at them. The atmosphere suddenly seemed to become far more tense. "Hate to be the bringer of bad news and destroy the ambiance here, but we've got a bit of a problem."

"Well, considering our lives are pretty problematic, you're gunna have to be a bit more specific," Dean snapped gruffly, exasperated. Crowley beamed complacently.

"Well, first things first, I trust Clara has clarified the terms of our apparent 'deal' and you're not going to ram my head on a spike considering her soul hasn't actually been compromised-"

"Spit it out, Crowley," Clara rolled her eyes, so not ready to have this conversation right now. "What did you do to the Tardis?"

Crowley's grin was slow with sadistic delight, as if ruminating upon something especially pleasing.

"Ah, yes, that. It's… Been temporarily dealt with."

Clara hesitated cautiously before she spoke, unable to completely prevent the dread from seeping into her tone.

"And what does that mean exactly?"

"Glad you asked, darling," Crowley issued her with a smug smirk, regarding the others carefully. "It means that once I hand over this key, I'm going to need some leverage."

"Leverage?" The Doctor straightened up with a glower. "Meaning what exactly?"

" _Meaning_ you're not the only one who gets to call the shots, _Doctor_ ," Crowley seethed, eyes narrowed wickedly. Clara felt as if her head was going to explode.

"Oh, shut up before I put you in detention for being inconvenient!" She snapped, fixing Crowley with a chagrined scowl. The demon stopped and stared at her, bemused.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" He choked out, eyes wide in confusion. Clara clenched her teeth and balled her hands into fists.

" _That you're going to Hell for this,"_ She hissed cuttingly. Crowley blinked, speechless for one blissful moment.

"Honestly, who writes your stuff?" He shook his head in wonder. Castiel spoke up for the first time since the demon had entered, his tone cold and his glare even icier.

"Crowley, where is the Tardis?"

"Safely tucked away in a snug little pocket in hell," Crowley replied easily, regaining his composure with a confident smile. "It's my insurance policy. Just in case you kids get any wild ideas about double crossing me when I give you _this_."

Crowley delved into his pocket and retrieved what Clara recognised to be the same small, gnarled key from before. She should have known if wasn't going to be easy getting him to give it up. Castiel's eyes widened and he froze.

"You have the key."

"Guilty," Crowley shrugged with a bright smile. Castiel snapped out of his frozen stupor and started forward determinedly, eyes glaring with fierce determination.

"Give it to me."

"Ah ah ah," Crowley held out a palm and to stop him. "Don't run before you can walk, Castiel. With great power comes great potential for disaster, and I'm not sure you're ready for that responsibility just yet."

"Give it to me now, Crowley, or I'll-"

"You'll what? Smite me?" Crowley indicated to himself with wide eyes, his voice strained with barely concealed rage. "I don't know if anyone's noticed but I'm kind of a key player here!"

"You're right, nobody noticed," Dean grumbled cynically. Crowley clenched his jaw.

"Let's be civilised about this and negotiate like a proper pack of misfits, shall we?"

"Don't test me, Crowley," Castiel raised his hand slowly, palm facing outwards. Clara watched with disbelief as his eyes seemed to burn with white hot, blue tinged light. Crowley grunted as his hand clutching the key began to twitch, and his entire arm began to shake as if fighting against some sort of invisible force. He growled, straining to keep hold of the key as Castiel's gaze intensified.

Crowley raised his head towards the chandelier dangling about their heads and narrowed his eyes in concentration. The lights flickered and Clara leapt out of the way before the entire thing shook precariously and fell, causing Castiel jump back and break his concentration.

Castiel glowered with cold fury and raised his hand again, and this time Crowley was sent sailing across the room until he collided with the wall, the force cracking the plaster behind him. Clara gasped and started forward, but Crowley had already retaliated with a swipe of his hand and the table went careering into the vexed angel, sending him flying backwards and tumbling to the ground. "Hey, cut it out!" Sam yelled, moving to stand between the two, arms outstretched as he eyed them warningly. Crowley dusted himself down with a bitter glare, pushing away from the wall.

"Well, that was hardly necessary, was it?" He stated coldly, scowling at Castiel. "Fun, maybe, but civilised? No."

Castiel didn't reply, merely glared frostily at the demon and returned to sitting on the couch. Clara released the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding.

"Enough of the vandalism," The Doctor pocketed his sonic screwdriver adamantly. He brushed back his coat, placing a hand on his hand as he pointed at Crowley. "First you hijack my companion, then you decide to take my _ship_?"

"I don't like your accusatory tone."

"Well I'd use a different tone but in case you haven't noticed I'm trying to accuse you of something here!"

"Easy, ET," Crowley eyed him warily. "I may or may not have held the Tardis hostage. It's a bit of a blur really."

"You stole my Tardis?!" The Doctor gaped at him, a storm brewing in his eyes. The knot of dread in Clara's stomach was becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

"I prefer the term _borrowing without immediate intend to give back_ ," Crowley's unreadable expression remained heedlessly indifferent. The Doctor's eyes looked ready to bulge out of his head as he huffed sharply.

"Crowley, hand over the damn key," Dean's jaw was set as he proffered his open palm expectantly.

"A friend in need is a friend indeed," Crowley mused acerbically. "An _enemy_ in need, however, is really quite amusing."

"I knew it," Dean threw up his hands in exasperation. "He's not gunna help us. He's electing to be a stubborn pain in the ass instead. The end is friggin' nigh."

"Working with Crowley is always a bad thing," Sam muttered darkly.

"Hey, I'm a bad thing, that curse is a worse thing," Crowley surveyed them belligerently. "I'm still planning on helping you. Just on _my_ terms."

"So it's your way or the highway, right?" Dean threw his eyes up to Heaven.

"Come on, boys, have I ever deceived you?"

"Uh, _yeah_ , all the freaking time!"

"Then you should be used to it by now, get over yourselves and prioritise!" Crowley yelled, losing his temper. Clara was beginning to witness more of this short fuse she knew full well that he had.

"Right," Dean growled, drawing his blade suddenly. Clara perked up sharply.

"Stop!" She yelled, but Crowley had already aimed a steady hand at Dean, and the knife burned red hot, forcing Dean to drop it with a gasp. Dean's expression barely had time to change from murderous to dread before Crowley had him thrown across the room, pinned against the wall. Dean winced with a grimace as Crowley clenched his fist and the hunter choked, his airways beginning to tighten. Castiel was already on his feet.

"What are you doing?!" Clara cried, grabbing hold of his arm fiercely.

"Trying to murder a Winchester," Crowley replied bluntly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm a demon. It's kind of our national sport."

"Oh no you don't, _no one_ is dying today," She moved to stand in front of him, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Got it?"

Crowley's jaw was taut as he glared at her for a moment before his eyes softened slightly and he let his hand fall to his side sullenly. Clara could hear Dean coughing behind her as he gasped to draw air into his lungs.

"Thank you," Clara breathed a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging slightly. She was grateful that Crowley actually listened to her, as well as a little bit surprised. If he hadn't ceased what he was doing, she dreaded to think what sort of chaos might have erupted in retaliation.

"So what do we do now?" Sam voiced expectantly.

"Ask Clara, she's clearly the only one who can control you lot," Crowley replied in a snarky tone.

"Hey, I'm not controlling, I'm just helpful to the point where it becomes a little bit aggressive," She defended herself adamantly. "But seriously, we all have to work together on this."

"Well, you people don't exactly make it easy," Dean hissed, rubbing his throat absentmindedly, his voice ragged from being choked half to death moments earlier.

Clara fixed the Doctor with an appealing look, knowing that he was the one she really needed to convince. The Time Lord remained tight lipped and stony faced, but nodded curtly after a moment of deliberation.

"Fine," He relented flatly. "We'll work with Crowley. At the very least we'll prove that it's a terrible idea. Happy now, Clara? Seeing as the point of this entire excruciating exercise appears to be tending to your emotional needs."

Clara smiled contentedly, ignoring the brooding comment.

"It'll do, yeah," She replied lightly.

"Fantastic," Crowley quipped sardonically. "Now, let's talks terms and conditions."

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 **Gotta love a bit of back and forth banter between our favourite dysfunctional gang!**

 **Hope you liked it, leave a review if you want to let me know what you thought, any constructive criticism is always welcome and greatly appreciated!**


	16. Chapter 16

In hindsight, maybe it wasn't such a spectacular idea to enclose the king of Hell in a devil's trap when tensions amongst the motley group were already running precariously high.

Of course, the severity of what they had done had initially been underestimated by the culprits, and it was only when Crowley plucked up the hem of the rug after realising his legs were not cooperating in carrying him towards the bottle of scotch on the nearby table that the red line of spray paint became visible, as did the demon's obvious rage.

Clara should have known that cooperation and teamwork was too much to hope for. Whoever's bright idea it had been to paint the red symbols with the intention of backstabbing the demon had just potentially disrupted all chances of peace amongst the assembled crew.

Crowley inhaled sharply, his jaw clenched as he straightened up slowly as if trying to keep his anger in check.

"Not very smart," He ground out finally, and Clara found that she was going to have to take it upon herself to become mediator once again before things got out of hand. Feeling a twinge of worry, she eyed Sam and Dean warily before turning towards the Doctor. It was his fidgeting under her gaze that gave him away.

"This was you, wasn't it?" She pursed her lips into a line as thin as her patience was wearing, closing her eyes for a brief moment before continuing in a tone which was quite clearly conveying her suppressed anger. "We were just starting to cooperate and then… Great. Just… _Great_ work, Doctor."

"Well, someone's got to step up to the plate and do something about this menace," The Doctor waved his screwdriver at the livid demon at he tried to justify his actions. "Honestly, Clara, I had everyone's best interests at heart."

"You said we'd work together!" Clara protested indignantly, running the risk of sounding petulant and realising quiet quickly that she was the only person opposed to keeping Crowley trapped during the retrieval of the blade.

"And he asked for terms and conditions!" The Doctor retaliated defensively, gesturing towards the devil's trap once again. "He didn't specify that they had to be expressed verbally! Voila!"

"I'm being serious, Doctor!" Clara snapped, knowing full well that she was fighting a losing battle but fully intending to grapple with it anyway.

" _Oh_ , sound the alarm, alert the bloody press!" The Time Lord hollered exasperatedly. "This is the only way I can agree to working with him, Clara, so don't even think about rubbing out my artwork."

Clara shuffled away from the rug sheepishly and crossed her arms.

"I still don't think this is the way to go," Clara mumbled, snatching the bottle of amber liquid and a glass from the desk. She narrowed her eyes in warning before handing them to Crowley, hoping fervently that the alcohol would subdue him for the time being at least and perhaps prevent a war. Or at least set it back a few hours.

"You should really listen to her more often, Doctor, rather than consulting your own twisted logic," Crowley drawled, surprisingly calm and composed now that he had a bottle of scotch in his grasp. He nodded his gratitude to Clara and busied himself with pouring the rich substance into the glass as they waited for him to continue. "You've really created quite the conundrum for yourselves now, I'm afraid to say."

"You're bluffing," Sam voiced firmly, and Clara wished she could will away the sinking feeling in her stomach and believe the hunter's words with the same air of confidence his tone was exuding. Crowley smirked wanly, surveying his scotch and taking a tentative sip before answering.

"You're right," He shrugged. "I'm not afraid to say. I'm delighted. Seeing you people grappling with a predicament of your own making is the only thing that makes this frustrating situation a tad less tedious."

"Crowley, I think we'd all appreciate it if you told us what the hell your point is here," Dean snapped impatiently, his confidence in their previous plan seemingly wavering.

"Dean appears to be one more cryptic comment way from throwing punches," Castiel interjected solemnly, his arms tense at his sides. "So if you wouldn't mind explaining what you mean, Crowley?"

"Oh, don't mind me and my _'cryptic comments'_ ," Crowley raised his eyebrows in mock innocence and took a small step back, cautious enough not to cross the boundary that held him within the circle. "I just find it amusing that you're so willing to put Clara in harm's way."

Clara held up a hand and stopped the Doctor from speaking before her could erupt into a calamity, her eyebrows furrowing as she approached Crowley. She cocked her head to the side.

"Hold on. Me? In harm's way? Since when, exactly?"

"Since I lost the ability to walk more than three feet in any direction," Crowley's smile had dissipated, and his gaze was more angry than mocking. He looked at Clara gravely. " _You're_ going to have to retrieve the blade, Clara. Alone."

"Now hold on a second," The Doctor glowered at Crowley as Clara attempted to twist this new information around in her mind into some sort of assortment which would make sense. "She's not going anywhere without me. And I'm sure the two flannel loving hunters and their pet angel wouldn't say no to a perilous trip either. So go consult _your_ logic. Ha."

Crowley cleared his throat loudly as he waited for the Time Lord to finish.

"Alright," He answered finally, looking up at the ceiling. "Allow me to contradict everything you just said. You're not going to retrieve that blade from its oh-so-perilous location, Doctor."

"Nonsense. Why wouldn't-"

"Human," Crowley appeared to be on the verge of rolling his eyes, as if the information he was dispatching was the most painstakingly obvious thing in the world. "Only a human can go where the blade is. Did you honestly think I'd leave it unguarded without any warding? The place is more secure than a bloody vault in a high security bank!"

" _You're_ not human," Clara pointed out, arching an eyebrow.

"Do you honestly think I'd ward that place against _myself_ , darling?" Crowley smiled smugly. Clara bit her lip.

"Good point."

"Alright, bit of a drawback considering Cas and the Doctor are out of the running," Dean spoke up. "But there's still me and Sammy. Clara couldn't be in better hands. Safe as you like."

"Are you for real? Death and destruction follow you two around like the plague," Crowley scoffed in disbelief. "And anyway, you two are blocked from entering as well. No hunter bloodlines can gain access. That blade could be extremely dangerous if it gets into the wrong hands, I took no chances. I'm not a gambling man."

"You're kidding," Sam huffed incredulously. "I can't believe this."

"Well, I _had_ planned on getting the blade myself-"

"Uh, _forget it_ ," Dean shook his head and waved his hand vehemently. "That was never gunna happen. You yourself pointed out that it's dangerous for it to fall into the wrong hands."

"Says the biggest liability in the bloody room!" Crowley gestured towards him with his glass, some of the amber liquid sloshing over the side with the motion. Dean covered the mark on his arm, his mouth curved into a snarl as he prepared to hurl back some sort of retort.

"I'll do it," Clara piped up, sensing the inevitable bickering that was about to commence.

"No," The Doctor replied bluntly. "Putting you into the line of fire by yourself is the last thing we need."

"Doctor, we really don't have a choice!" Clara burst out. She wasn't about to argue about this. "We're running out of time, and right now I'm all we've got! Unless you want to let Crowley out of his holding cell, that is."

"Nuh uh, not gunna happen," Dean shook his head. "We can't trust him with this. Too much is at stake, too much could go wrong."

"I don't like this," The Doctor hissed, beginning to pace. It always put Clara on edge when he did that. "Clara Oswald, the girl who considers the word 'no' a challenge."

"Loosen your grip, Doctor, take a breath," Crowley sighed heavily. "I think Clara can handle flying solo. Not that I'm exactly ecstatic about this little fiasco you've created. This wasn't my intention."

"I'm completely capable, thanks," Clara's pounding heart was contradicting her words, but she was determined not to reveal this to the already dubious party.

"Hashtag girl power," Castiel offered with a tentative grin. His cautious smile dropped when he saw the expression on the faces staring at him. "I mean- It was just something I saw- I- I am totally opposed to this abhorrent idea as well."

"Yes, it is a bit of a hiccup in the grand scheme of things, isn't it?" Crowley downed the last of his scotch and abruptly began pouring himself another. He appeared to be becoming increasingly agitated, and covering it up with snarky comments and hostile sarcasm wasn't lost on Clara. In fact, it only proved to make her more apprehensive. Because Crowley didn't get _worried_ , he never got _concerned,_ not unless there was very good cause to. Clara pushed her doubts to the back of her mind and cleared her throat.

"Right, before you all start arguing again, give me that key, Crowley."

Clara strode boldly into the devil's trap, moving to stand in front of Crowley. She steadied herself, looking at the ground as she felt a pulse of nervous energy coarse through her. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him and held out her palm. There it was again, that hint of suppressed worry evident in his dark eyes. She hoped the same emotions weren't mirrored in hers.

The demon was silent for a moment. He frowned as if trying to conjure up the correct words, before addressing the rest of the group.

"Could Clara and I have a moment to talk in private please?" His eyes never left Clara's. Her palm wavered in the air between them.

"Heck no."

The two abrupt syllables came from the older of the Winchester brothers.

"Dean, running the risk of sounding like an overused cliché, _if I was going to kill her, I would have done it already."_

"Just give us five minutes," Clara aimed her plea at the Doctor, her tone soft. "Please."

After a moment of careful deliberation the Doctor nodded silently and left, the Winchesters and following suite, albeit reluctantly. Castiel made to leave but paused at the door. He looked at Clara almost apologetically.

"I would feel better if I could stay, just to make sure-"

"That I don't let him out, right?" Clara laughed lightly and Castiel almost looked sheepish. "It's fine, Castiel."

The angel nodded, relieved, and moved into the shadows. Clara found it hard to look up at Crowley again. She was terrified of what she might find buried deep in his gaze. She let her palm fall to her side.

"Clara."

Crowley took hold of her chin gently and tilted her head so that she had no choice but to look at him. He released her, but she found that she was still trapped in place by his eyes.

"I'm going to be honest," He began softly.

"That's a big commitment for you, Crowley, think you can handle it?" Clara's laugh died in her throat when she saw that he wasn't smiling.

"Hey," She murmured, touching his cheek lightly. He pulled away, taking a step back and shaking his head. Clara felt her pulse begin to quicken. "What's wrong? What is it?"

"I'm not happy about this," He growled, refusing to meet her gaze.

"I know, I know," Clara stepped forward and took his hands in hers carefully, adopting a soothing tone. "It's dangerous. But I'll be fine. Right?"

"You don't understand," Crowley winced like he had a harsh migraine brewing. "I _really_ don't like this."

"You're worried," Clara whispered, almost in awe but simultaneously terrified. "You're actually worried."

He didn't reply, at least not with words. He merely looked at her, and that was enough to turn Clara's blood to ice.

"This is bad, isn't it?"

"We're not the only people looking for that blade, Clara," He muttered darkly. "And the warding I've put up isn't the only warding cast on that place. This… This is a risk, and-"

"And you don't want me to take it, right?" Clara finished for him quietly.

"Not alone," He admitted, looking as if the very act of confessing that he was actually concerned about her wellbeing pained him. She supposed it _did_ go against everything he stood for.

"I can't let the Doctor lose the Tardis, Crowley," She whispered, biting her lip. "I have to do this."

"I know," He murmured, reaching out to touch her hair with a weak smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm not going to stop you. It's just… The one human who I actually…" He squinted, his forehead creasing as he coughed. He swallowed, almost as if he was choking on the word. Clara raised an eyebrow, a soft smile playing around her lips. "- _Care_ about can't seem to help but be an insufferable danger magnet."

"Knew you had a soft spot for me," She grinned and Crowley rolled his eyes. She cast a quick glance over at Castiel. "I don't suppose he'd be too happy if I scratched away a bit of that devil's trap?"

"By all means, try it, but I won't be sticking around to see the calamitous aftermath," Crowley smirked fondly and Clara smiled in return. She opened her mouth, then closed it again before deciding on her words. She remembered something the Doctor had said before, something about a hug being a good way to hide your face. She looked at Crowley briefly before wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

He froze for a moment before relaxing and circling his arms around her in return, pulling her closer to him. Her heart racing, Clara turned her head slightly so that her lips were close to his ear.

"Can I tell you something?" She whispered, hoping the tears she could feel brewing wouldn't give her away.

"I won't stop you," He said for the second time that day, and that meant more to Clara than words could convey. Here was someone who would let her make her own decisions, who cared for her but would allow her to be her own person. There was an invaluable freedom in that.

"I'm scared," She mumbled quietly, feeling a tear escape her eye as she buried her face in his shoulder. Her voice cracked as she said it and she winced. She hated admitting that she was scared. Hated it. But there was something strangely addicting and exhilarating about getting it off her chest right now.

"And so you should be," Crowley murmured. "Fear is important."

"Being brave is important too," Clara replied softly, hoping she could find a way to instil some courage before venturing off into inevitable doom.

"Bravery doesn't exist, Clara. Telling someone to be brave is just another way of saying get on with it," Crowley muttered, pulling back slightly to look at her. "Can you do that?"

She answered him with her lips and smiled.

"Yeah. Yeah I think I can."

* * *

 **Next chapter will be longer and more action packed, I promise! Review if you want to let me know what you thought, thanks for all the feedback so far it's so helpful you guys are amazing!**


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